


A Thousand Times

by aswellingstorm



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Friendship/Love, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, M/M, Romance, i'm so tired i should be sleeping, there are more relevant tags i promise, this is gonna be such a wild ride yall give me a chance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-12-01 13:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11487240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aswellingstorm/pseuds/aswellingstorm
Summary: When Betty Cooper transfers to Riverdale High, she’s practically thrown into a River Vixen uniform the moment she sets foot on campus. She’s beautiful, smart and instantly popular. She could date anyone she wants but has her heart locked on residential loaner, Jughead Jones. Convinced her affection is an elaborate prank, Jughead uses the opportunity to write an article exposing the perfect girl-next-doors deepest secrets.AU Where Betty moves into town, is instantly smitten with Jughead who thinks she's just trying to humiliate him. He retaliates by writing an exposé on her and the consequences are far from expected.





	1. Where We Began

**Author's Note:**

> What I should be doing: packing, filling out student loan apps, sleeping, or writing the next chapter of 48 hours  
> What I’m actually doing: this  
> as always you can find me @ aswellingstorm.tumblr.com

Jughead will always remember the day Betty Cooper moved into the homey town of Riverdale. He’d been leaning against his locker, talking to his best friend Veronica Lodge. He knows it’s cheesy, but he swears both of the doors burst open when the blonde strutted into the school. Her entrance was in slow motion, with all heads turned to stare at her beauty. Her blonde hair was pulled pack into a perfect ponytail, she was wearing a white collared shirt with a baby pink sweater on top of it, paired with white jeans. Betty Cooper looked angelic, and everyone knew it. She blushed when she noticed everyone staring, ducking her head and walking quickly to the main office.

 

Jughead hadn’t even noticed he’d been staring at her, mouth agape until Veronica shut it for him. “Jesus Jug,” she remarked, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

 

“What are you talking about?” He snapped, finally breaking his gaze from the blonde beauty. Both he and Veronica were dressed in all black, their signature looks that couldn’t be further from what Betty was wearing.

 

“I can’t believe the world’s most cynical human being, Jughead Jones, just subscribed to the love-at-first-sight phenomenon,” Veronica laughed humorlessly, baring her perfectly white teeth.

 

He bristled at that, and maybe it’s Veronica’s teasing that started up his contempt for Betty. Maybe it was the way their eyes locked briefly and he could swear that moment was frozen in time, even if just for a minute.

 

“It couldn’t hurt to talk to her,” Veronica nudged with a gentle smile.

 

Jughead rolled his eyes, perfectly prepared to tell her that _yes_ , it could very well hurt to talk to her, but the bell rang and soon enough, he was drowned out by the loud noises of students shuffling through the hallway. He mumbled a _see you later_ to Veronica before making a move to head to his first period class. He was met with a large, heavy shoulder throwing him into a row of lockers.

 

Reggie laughed as the smaller boy collided with the metal, saying “Watch it, douchebag.”

 

Jughead only glared at him, lacking the energy today to verbally engage with someone who was still at a third grade reading level. He adjusted his bag and fixed his beanie with a huff before looking up to see none other than Betty Cooper staring at him. She looked like she had just watched a baby deer get shot, and had an overly concerned, sympathetic look on her face.

 

He felt his face grow hot with embarrassment, but that wasn’t the worst part of the exchange. Somehow, within the past thirty-seconds since he’d first seen the new girl, she had already managed to change clothes. She was now sporting a River Vixen uniform and dammit, it just looked _too_ perfect on her. She’d been on campus for all of _maybe_ a minute and had already seen him in a vulnerable state, was already sending him looks of pity. His hatred for her grew and he narrowed his eyes at her as he continued to walk on to his class.

 

“Wait-“ Betty began to call out after him as he stalked away, and he almost wanted to stop at the sound of her voice. It was soft, smooth and heavenly. Nothing like the voice that interrupted her seconds later.

 

“Betty!” Cheryl’s high pitched voice rang out, “Let’s walk to class together!” The ginger queen tugged Betty along, linking arms with her in their matching uniforms.

 

Cheryl walked briskly, pulling them ahead of Jughead and Betty turned her head to look at him before he ducked into his classroom. Their eyes met again and Jughead couldn’t help but feel the both of them linger.

 

He had a substitute teacher during his first class, Algebra. He’d been unlucky enough to deal with mathematical equations first thing in the morning every damn day of the week but typically the work wasn’t too difficult. 

 

Today was torturous, as the class had been given busy work to deal with which meant that an endless supply of gossip filtered about the room.

 

“Dude,” Reggie said, nodding to Moose, “I’m gonna bang her _so_ hard. Give me a _week_ , tops.”

 

“Bro, how? She looks so uptight,” Moose wondered.

 

“Nah man that’s the best part, imagine how many points I’d get for her,” Reggie bragged with a sick smirk, “Sure she looks like a tight ass, but those girls are the biggest _freaks_ in the sheets…if you know what I mean.” He winked.

 

Jughead felt his stomach tighten at the conversation, wondering how it was possible for two people to be so _vile_. He was clenching his pencil a little too tightly, wishing he hadn’t eavesdropped, but also knowing it was impossible _not_ to in such a small room. Ethel Muggs turned around from where she was sitting in front of Jughead to send him a disgusted look that the boy matched with empathy.

 

“No way dude,” Moose shook his head vehemently, “Archie called dibs on her like the second he saw her.”

 

“So what?” Reggie snorted, “We’re co-captains, we share _everything_.”

 

“Are all men this disgusting?” Ethel muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Jughead to hear.

 

“Not all men, just sweaty boys who have wet dreams for a week after catching just one glance of a playboy magazine,” Jughead retorted, earning a laugh from the girl that was too-loud for the jocks liking.

 

They turned to the pair with venom in their eyes, “What’s so funny?”

 

“N-nothing,” Ethel said between her laughter, leaving Jughead to just smirk proudly.

 

“ _Tch_ ,” Reggie rolled his eyes, “Not like _you_ have any chance of sleeping with her Jughead.”

 

“Yeah,” Moose piped in, “Not even _Fat Ethel_ would let you bone her.”

 

Reggie hit him on the shoulder, “Dude, Ethel’s right there.”

 

“Oh,” Moose’s face fell, “Wait. You’re Ethel?”

 

Her face had already fallen, flushed with embarrassment and tears springing to her eyes. Before the situation could escalate, the bell rang. Moose and Reggie darted out of the room with Reggie smacking him on the chest chastising, “C’mon, you can’t say something like that to her _face_.”

 

As the other students cleared out of the room, Jughead got up and leaned against the desk across from Ethel’s. A few students were filtering into the room for the next period to begin, but he ignored them.

 

“Hey,” He said gently, reaching out to touch Ethel’s shoulder, “Don’t listen to them, okay? They’re idiots.”

 

“Even idiots have eyesight,” She replied, failing to keep the tears at bay and averting her gaze from them.

 

“What are you talking about?” He asked, surprised, “Ethel, c’mon. You’re _beautiful_.” He spoke with a refreshing sincerity, meaning every word to comfort his friend. Ethel felt her heart flutter and she looked at him in amazement.

 

“R-really?” She stuttered out, face turning red for a different reason, “You mean it?”

 

“Of course I do,” He assured her. He had never looked at the girl for anything other than friendship, but she was rather classically beautiful. Jughead gave her arm a gentle squeeze before continuing, “It’s not your fault that Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dipshit can’t see that, alright? They’d stick their dicks in a vacuum cleaner if Cheryl Blossom told him to.”

 

Ethel laughed, grabbed her things and they headed out of the classroom together. On their way out, Jughead noticed Betty standing in front of the room, green eyes looking guilty as if she had heard the entire conversation unfold before her. He scoffed at her before turning out of the room and walking into his next class, Art, which was treated as nothing more than a joke by students and faculty alike.

 

Irritated, he worked on his latest project, a charcoal sketch of whatever animal the student chose. His started off as his dog, Hot Dog, but over the past few days had morphed into some lizard-looking creature. He could draw a blank piece of paper and still get an A on the project, which is probably he took the class less seriously than he did with his others.

 

He stewed over Reggie’s cruel words, as if sex was the ultimate goal in any high school relationship. Jughead wasn’t looking for some touch-and-go relationship. If was going to date someone, he wanted it to matter. If all the two jocks wanted in a relationship was a warm body, then that’s fine for them. If that’s all _Betty_ was looking for, then all the more power to her, he thought to himself. It was only further proof that the two of them didn’t fit-and never would. Jughead didn’t have a chance with Betty and maybe that was for the best.

 

She was already _so_ irritating, with the way she just always seemed to be wherever Jughead turned. First, looking at him with those heart wrenchingly beautiful eyes filled with a gross amount of pity. Then, eavesdropping on his conversation with Ethel. Deep down, he knew she wasn’t to blame for either of those situations—she’d just fallen victim to being in the wrong place at the wrong time, twice.

 

But it didn’t stop there. In his third class of the day, US History, she sat next to him. He’d gotten to class fairly early, as it was right next door. He sat in the middle of the room, knowing that if he were too far in the front or the back, he was more likely to be called on when he was least expecting it.

 

There was only a handful of other students in the room, and the desks were connected in combinations of three. He sat on the very edge of the row, closest to the door when she waltzed in. Her eyes scanned the room, before falling on him. And Jughead could understand her _maybe_ wanting to sit near him, but she sought him out and sat directly next to him.

 

He wanted to look at her in confusion, ask her what she was up to but when he turned to her, all of the words died in his mouth. She looked at him with the brightest of smiles on her face, with her eyes peering into his. He was winded, in a way that only track-day during gym class had done to him before.

 

“Well, _this_ is an interesting development,” Veronica said, strolling into the classroom with her eyebrows raised.

 

The couple stopped staring at each other, instead looking at the raven haired beauty as she sauntered down the row, standing right before them.

 

“Not sure how it works in whatever white-washed Stepford wives suburbia you sprawled out of, but here you kinda can’t just take someone’s seat because you want it, sweetie,” Veronica said, a false smile plastered on her face. Jughead knew that look and knew that Veronica didn’t truly give half of a shit about the seat. She was just baiting the new girl and testing the waters.

 

Feigning innocence, Betty coolly responded, “Maybe if you were so _concerned_ about your seat, you should have gotten to class earlier.”

 

“Ohh, I see,” Veronica murmured, “Betty Cooper’s got moxie— “

 

“Miss Lodge,” Mrs. Grundy called out from the front of the room. A tired, aging woman who was probably alive during the very lesson she was teaching about-World War I. Her hair was grayed, she wore thick spectacles and was known for being both kindhearted and stern when necessary. Her daughter, Ms. Grundy, also worked at the school. “Would you prefer to learn about the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand while standing, or would you like to join the rest of the class and make yourself comfortable at a desk?”

 

“To. Be. Continued.” Veronica enunciated every work with a punch of her finger, gestured at both Betty and Jughead, a smirk falling across her face. She sat in front of the pair in the desk before them.

 

When the attendance sheet was passed around, Betty slipped a piece of paper to Jughead.

 

 ** _Hey :)_**  was all it read, and Jughead looked at her skeptically. In the same breath, he crumpled up the paper and ignored her presence for the rest of the class. Why was she trying to talk to him? What was her goal? When the bell rang again, he felt relieved to be getting some space away from the blonde who smelled like warm vanilla.

 

The relief he felt quickly faded into disappointment when she strolled into his next class, honors English. He couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes when she, once again, chose the empty seat next to him, even after Archie Andrews gestured for her to seat in the seat next to him.

 

“You know,” She spoke softly, ignoring the shocked looks the classmates were casting her way. “I overheard what you were saying to that girl today. That was really sweet.” She complimented. He despised how genuine she sounded, her kindness only served to confuse him more.

 

Taken aback he dryly commented, “Thanks for the input.” He didn’t miss the hurt in her eyes as she looked at him in confusion, before turning her attention to the teacher in the front of the room.

 

\--

 

It had been a month since Betty started at Riverdale, and the student body was just as obsessed with her. She was best friends with Cheryl Blossom and Kevin Keller, who stuck by her side loyally at all times. During lunch, she sat at the popular table with the football team, spearheaded by Archie and Reggie who sent her longing looks every second of the day. Also at her table were her best friends, along with Jason Blossom and the rest of the basketball team who followed at his heels like a pack of betas.

 

Everyone loved her or wanted to _be_ her. The more reserved students who were weary of her at first had grown to love her and she wowed teachers with her academic prowess. She was an incredible cheerleader as well, the teams best bet at getting to Nationals. Jughead, Ronnie and Ethel had dragged each other to a few games and the raven haired boy couldn’t stop himself from being amazed and how she carried herself across the field. Every stunt, cartwheel, cheer was perfectly tied together with a smile that Jughead was certain could be seen from the freaking moon.

 

That didn’t mean he could tolerate her. As a matter of fact, every day she only made him _more_ annoyed with her. In history, she was constantly passing him notes that always went unreturned. Her most typical one was **_Hey :)_**  but she’d also passed him messages such as: **_So is it safe to assume Jughead isn’t your real name?_** , **_Are you coming to the game tonight?_** , **_Do you want to play a game called ‘stop ignoring me’?_**

 

He always rolled his eyes at her, never once responding, but always tucking the notes into his binder. She saw him smile whenever she passed him a note, frown the one day she didn’t, and that was good enough for her.

 

When Archie Andrews, rather publicly, asked her out during lunch one day she politely accepted to a group date but not before sending meaningful glances in Jughead’s direction.

 

When he spent an entire English class ranting about how the school stopped serving extra French fries during lunch in some mediocre attempt to improve health measures, he watched as she spent the lunch period asking friends at her table for their uneaten fries. Halfway through the lunch period, she stood up and wordlessly deposited her collection of fries on his tray. Betty walked away before he could even look up at her.

When the dreaded-track day came in gym class, she was Jughead’s partner. She stopped him after the third lap, telling him had _already_ completed the five laps that were required to account for a mile. He may have made her run an extra one.

 

Ronnie thought it was hilarious, but every act of kindness pissed him off more. He was certain there was an ulterior motive to her good deeds. He knew that the River Vixens oftentimes hazed their newest members, and he wouldn’t be surprised if her connection was a result of that. He theorized that perhaps Cheryl or Ginger had tasked her with leading him on, making him think she was into him, just to publicly humiliate him at a later date. 

 

Ethel proudly boasted about how she rejected Betty from the Blue and Gold, the school newspaper that Veronica, Ethel and Jughead ran together. Apparently the blonde came during office hours, interested in writing or even editing for the paper when Ethel told them she didn’t think she’d be the right _voice_ for the paper. Jughead high-fived her for that one, missing the way the girls gaze lingered on his smile.

 

The final straw came when the mid-semester English project, worth fifty percent of their grade, had come up. On the day dedicated to picking partners, Jughead had his yearbook club photo scheduled and just assumed he’d be stuck with Dilton Doiley. Instead, the next day he was met with Betty’s bright face, practically bouncing in her seat as their teacher reminded them who was partnered with who.

 

“So,” She explained, “We have to rewrite one of Shakespeare’s works in a modern language.”

 

“Please don’t tell me you already picked which play,” He muttered, pinching his nose.

 

“Oh!” She exclaimed with the same level of cheer that she used on the field, “So you _can_ speak to someone outside of your circle. Interesting.” He shot her a disparaging look and she continued, “But _yes_ I did pick one, and I think you’re gonna love it— “

 

He groaned in response, “I swear to god if you say you picked— “

 

“Romeo and Juliet!” They said in unison, while he threw his face in his palm and she smiled like a cat who swallowed a canary.

 

“Knew you’d like it,” She said smugly.

 

\--

 

“That’s it!” Jughead yelled, exhausted as he burst into the doors of the Blue and Gold. “I’m done! I can’t take it anymore.”

 

“Take what?” Ronnie asked, peering over her computer.

 

“Betty-freaking-Cooper! Who else?” He replied, as though it were obvious.

 

“Now what’d she do?” Veronica asked, a smile already forming on her face at Jughead’s misery.

 

“She volunteered me to work with her for our English project, which consists of rewriting _Romeo and Juliet_ in layman terms,” He explained and both Ethel and Veronica winced in sympathy.

 

“She’s really coming at your neck,” Veronica stated.

 

“I just don’t get it! She’s taking whatever _sick_ prank this is way too far!” He yelled, pacing about the room.

 

“But I’m done. If she wants to drag me down or humiliate me or whatever she has planned, I’m going to do take her with me,” Jughead responded.

 

“What do you mean?” Ethel asked.

 

“She wants to get to know me? Have me follow her around like another one of her puppy dogs? Show up to her dumb cheerleading games? Take her for a milkshake at Pop’s afterwards? That’s fine-perfect! I’m going to write an exposé on Betty Cooper. That girl _has_ to be full of secrets, there has to be some reason why she just showed up here out of the middle of nowhere-and I’m going to find out—all of it. And the whole school will too.”

 

Ethel looked a little weary, but Veronica just stuck her hand out in front of Jughead with support, saying “I’m in.”

 

Ethel placed her hand on top of Ronnie’s, mumbling her accordance. Jughead put his on top of theirs saying, “Let’s take Betty Cooper down.”


	2. The Sting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Holy Trinity prepares for the first steps of the Betty Cooper takedown. The first step was naming it Operation Strawberry, which Jughead already has a few issues with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all of the positive responses to this story! i didn't expect this story to get so much attention & i'm #notworthy but it was a very welcome surprise after I got the life sassed out of me by a TSA agent lmao
> 
> as always you can find me @ aswellingstorm.tumblr.com
> 
> enjoy! :)

Wednesday was already off to an annoying start. Since the beginning of third period, Jughead head been more or less tearing apart the office of the _Blue and Gold_ in a desperate search for his USB stick. It had all of his reports for the newspaper on it in addition to whatever stories he was able to write in his free time. He could have _sworn_ he had left it in the PC at his work station but this morning, it was mysteriously gone.

The morning only worsened when Veronica and Ethel walked into the office, although ‘walked’ may not be the right word for Veronica. She had thrown the doors of the office open with a nasty scowl on her face. The girl looked immaculate, as always, but something was off this morning. She was a perfect picture of rage, slamming her books on her desk causing the new monitors her father had just bought for the team to quake. The raven haired girl carelessly thrust her Gucci cross body bag onto an opposing desk, ripping leather maroon gloves off of her hands so intensely as though they had personally disappointed her.

It would’ve been nothing if not extremely beneficial for Jughead to notice the signs of his best friends distress, but he was still obliviously scouring through the office. Old articles of the newspaper were scattered about the room, wires unplugged, some keyboards littered the floor, screens were tilted about. It looked chaotic, something along the lines of “The NY Times Meets Hurricane Katrina”.

So far this day had all of the horrible elements of a Monday. Caught between the frantic mess that was Jughead Jones and the seething intellect known as Veronica Lodge was Ethel Muggs, looking like she wanted to be anywhere else. She walked into the room in hopes of finding something that could placate Veronica’s rage or at least give the girl room to cool off. And if Jughead happened to be there, then at least something was in it for her.

But it turns out Jughead’s presence and apparent redecoration of the office only served to push Veronica further to the brink of her anger.

“Hey guys,” Jughead looked up, at last acknowledging their presence. “Have either of you seen my USB stick?”

“You mean this?” Veronica asked, one eyebrow raised as she tauntingly held the USB stick near her head.

“Why the hell do you have that?” Jughead demanded, eyes slighted. Of _course_ she had it, making him run around the office like a headless chicken for the sole purpose of her own enjoyment.

“So I can shove it up my own ass for shits and giggles?” She responded, voice thick with sarcasm, “Why the hell do you think?”

“If I would have ever _thought_ you might have stolen my USB I wouldn’t have spent the past two hours looking for it!” He fought back, annoyed.

He had better things to do, the only reason he had come into the office was to avoid having class with Betty. She had _just_ been transferred into his eight grade Honors Biology class because _of course_ Miss Perfect been breezing through the college-prep level coursework. That meant that he now shared History, English H, Lunch, Gym, Free period, and Bio H with the blonde—something straight out of his own nightmares. Once she realized they had free period together, she began to seek him out in the library to work on their English Project. The office of the _Blue and Gold_ was the only place he was safe from her, ever since Ethel had won guard dog of the year and spurned Betty by telling her she wasn’t a right fit for the paper.

“Oh calm down!” Veronica demanded, causing quite a stir of irony, “You’re not getting it back.” She coolly slid it into her breast coat pocket when he approached.

“The flame on Hades’ head herself is telling _me_ to calm down?” He asked, astounded. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m protecting all of us and our _artistic_ integrity, Jughead,” She sniffed, rolling her eyes as if it were obvious.

“Do you have any idea what she’s going on about?” Jughead turned his attention to Ethel, cradling his forehead in the palm of his hand. He was leaning against one of the chairs in the rows.

“I-uh, well—” Ethel stammered out in a voice that was higher pitched than normal. Ever since _that_ incident in the classroom, she found that talking to Jughead was more difficult. Her stomach felt too light around him, constantly flipping when he so much as acknowledged her presence. Involuntarily, she felt a need to impress him now and the added pressure to her brain was the equivalent of pouring hot water on the motherboard of a computer.

“You’ll be writing and editing _everything_ for _Operation Strawberry_ on a shared google drive folder,” Veronica stated firmly.

 _Operation Strawberry_ was the codename Veronica and Ethel had agreed upon for their takedown mission, forcing Jughead to accept it for all of its lameness. They determined that without a nickname, talking about their plan could be dangerous. They could be found out by other students or worse yet, Betty herself. Oftentimes they’d abbreviate the name to simply _OS_ , but it still didn’t sound nearly as fierce as Jughead would’ve preferred.

“And why is that?” Jughead rolled his eyes.

“Because,” She explained, annoyed that her vision wasn’t as apparent to Jughead, “You’re playing with fire here.”

“In what way?” He seemed interested, staring at Veronica expectantly.

“What? You expect me to believe you’ve never seen a Nicholas Sparks movie? A cheesy after-school Disney love story special? A rom-com of any variation for that matter?” Veronica sent him a dubious look.

“What are you implying?” Ethel picked up on Veronica’s insinuations first, looking rather uncomfortable at the picture being painted.

“I saw the way you looked at her when she strutted through the doors of this shit school, like _Romeo_ seeing _Juliet_ for the first time,” When he tensed at her reference to his English project, she smirked, “And of course leave it to _you_ of all people to hate someone for being _nice_ to you—”

“So what? You’re already calling it off? It’s only been a day!” He retorted, huffing in irritation, “And you know she’s not just being nice for the sake of being nice—Cheryl has to be putting her up to this!”

“Oh no way,” Veronica shook her head, “We’re _doing_ this. We made a pact. Something’s off about her, she’s _major_ sketch,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste, “Miss Priss is far too… _perfect_.”

 

“So that’s why I’m doing this,” She continued, gesturing to the USB stick, “Ethel and I…we’re your failsafe.”

“Failsafe for what?” He wondered, dumbly.

“If you fall in _love_ with her, idiot,” Veronica clarified, as if it were obvious.

Jughead was struck by that statement, completely taken aback by it. He didn’t know whether to laugh at the insanity of it or give Veronica a grocery list outlining every way in which she was wrong.

“So _if_ that happens,” Veronica continued, “We still need to publish this. We can’t have our best writer waste all of this time investigating and writing for it all to be for nothing in the end. Through Google docs, both Ethel and I will have access to the file. If you last minute pussy out and decide not to publish it, one of us will.” A confident smile fell across her face as she crossed her arms.

“Why Ethel?” He asked, quickly adding, “No offense Ethel, but why can’t you do it on your own, Ronnie?”

The pale girl nodded, heart pounding at the way he spoke her name, “Yeah, why me?”

Veronica looked slightly affronted, “We’re a _team_ guys. We should have equal power here.”

“Valid,” Jughead conceded, standing up and straightening his back, “So what’s got you so worked up this morning?”

“Nothing-”

“Archie tried to talk to her this morning,” Ethel supplied, causing Veronica to look at her with surprise.

“What?” Jughead asked, surprised, “He hasn’t spoken to you since—”

“Since he told me he couldn’t wait for my family’s Fourth of July barbecue? And then didn’t even show up? Or apologize for not showing up? Yeah Jug, I know!” Veronica snapped, angrily.

“Well, what’d he say?” the curious boy asked.

“Oh, you don’t even _want_ to know,” She ranted dramatically, “He’s such a moron! How _dare_ he? I mean, who does he think he is?”

“He said ‘Hey Ronnie, how’s it going?’” Ethel corrected, not seeing the fault in his interaction with her.

But Jughead winced, understanding Veronica’s anger. He’d been subject to the same behavior for years, a long time before the Lodges moved into town. Archie was a flake, he was one of those “light switch friendships” they learned about in elementary school health class. One minute you’re best buds, the next minute he couldn’t pick identify your face in a lineup. He never apologized either, unaware he’d hurt anyone. That kid had zero reliability that was mirrored with an equal amount of accountability.

Jughead tried to warn Veronica when she moved into town and fell hard for the ginger, years of experience with the Andrews kid taught him one thing: he was Archie’s best friend, but Archie was never his. They’d grown distant and their “off” periods were longer and more frequent. But when he saw the way Archie looked at her, the way he allowed her to call him a name as horrifyingly sweet as _Archiekins_ he thought it might be different for her.

He was wrong, of course, and the pair hadn’t spoken since Jughead raked the other over the coals for breaking her heart. He knew that Archie attempting to talk to Veronica again as nothing had ever happened between them, hurt just as much as him ditching and ghosting her for months on end.

“I’m sorry ‘Ron,” He spoke softly and now that her anger had dampened, tears were springing to her eyes. She let out a shaky breath before turning her head upwards to the ceiling to keep the tears at bay.

“What are you doing?” Ethel questioned, looking at her strangely.

“Do you have any idea how expensive La Prairie foundation is, Ethel?” Veronica shot back, voice still dominant despite her odd position, “Two hundred and sixty-five _dollars_. Not worth ruining over the local ginger-headed moron.”

Unable to hold back, the three of them laughed together in unison. The maelstrom of emotions left them all a bit emotionally exhausted and weary, and the fact that Veronica dropped nearly three hundred dollars for an ounce of foundation—it was too much to bear.

They heard a whining high pitched voice from out in the hallway, “Ugh why are there no trashcans in this school?” It was Tina, one of Cheryl’s River Vixens and top henchmen.

“Right?” Another voice answered with a pout evident in her voice, presumably Ginger, “I need to throw out my ‘Starbs!”

Slowly, the group approached the doorway of the newspaper office, with Cheryl standing in front of the two. They were all in uniform, even though there wasn’t a game that night—they didn’t even have practices on Wednesday. Cheryl just preferred to force all of them into uniform more than once a week, claiming it was a power move. She peered into the room, appraising its mess and the people inside of it.

She looked all three of them up and down in rapid succession before saying, “Just dump it here ladies, looks like there’s enough trash in here as it is.”

Cheryl dropped her cup in the doorway, not even bothering to aim for the trashcan that stood just a few feet further in the corner of the class room. She smirked as the remains of her Grande chai latte splattered on the tiles of the floor, landing a few drops on old newspapers.

Ginger and Tina followed in a similar fashion, instead purposely turning their cups upside down to ensure that the rest of their tall salted caramel lattes splashed on the floor. They giggled and smirked mercilessly letting out a mousey, high pitched, “ _Opps_.”

They sauntered away, leaving the three writers standing in shock, a look that deepened when, right behind her friends, Betty stopped in the doorway. She was also wearing her River Vixens uniform, hair smoothed back into a perfect, bouncing ponytail. She glanced around the hallway, making sure no one was around when she made quick work of picking up the spilled cups. Hurriedly, she threw them in the trashcan of the room that the others choose to ignore, not noticing the targets of the joke staring at her in disbelief.

She hadn’t expected anyone to be in the room, assuming she had gone unwatched and jumped with a squeak of surprise when she looked up to find them all standing there.

“Oh!” Betty said, heart jumping. A wide, instant smile broke out across her face when she saw Jughead standing inside. Her white teeth were made more prominent by her glossy pink lipstick.

He cursed himself for the way his heart stopped at the look she sent him, hated the way his palms sweat on their own accord as she straightened her skirt.

“Hey Jughead!” The girl called out cheerfully, “What’s up?”

“You got coffee on your uniform,” He pointed out dully, hoping he sounded disinterested.

“Ugh,” She said, looking down at the small speck of coffee that landed over the R in the center. They weren’t wearing under armor today as it was eighty degrees outside, and at least ninety in the school. Her arms were perfectly toned, slim with muscles that flexed as she attempted to wipe it off.

They all continued to stare at her when she spoke again, “Anyway, fair warning, we have track again in gym.”

“Great,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ll assume you already signed us up as partners.”

“Yep!” She flashed him a bright smile, “I didn’t think you’d even be here, since you skipped third and fourth but— “

“Betty!” Cheryl trilled, “Come on!”

Betty looked back toward her group with a look of mild annoyance, the first time he saw any unpleasant look cross her face.

“The devil’s mistress calls,” Veronica pointed out, a fairly polite way of her telling Betty to leave.

“Gotta go,” The blonde admitted, “See you then _Juggy_!”

He tried to respond, think of something quick-witted to say but his mouth was too busy hanging open in shock to form words. His eyes widened, brows furrowed and he nearly _fell_ over at her nickname for him. Of all the things he’d been called in his life, _Juggy_ certainly wasn’t one of them. The closest thing he ever head to a nickname or pet name of any kind was ‘Jug’. Who did this infuriating girl think she was? She disappeared out of the doorway, practically bouncing away when she saw the look on his face. She was under his skin, she knew it, and she was enjoying it.

He walked to the doorway, before shouting at her, “You’re running at _least_ twelve laps for that Cooper!”

He could hear Veronica snickering, relishing the moment when he walked back in.

“You better write that article _fast_ boy,” Ronnie said hauntingly, a devious smile across her face, “It’s only a matter of time.”

\--

He was still reeling from the nickname when the day came to a close. During his usual pre-seventh period scuffle with Reggie and Moose, Principle Weatherbee called him. Foolishly, Jughead initially thought the man had intended to break up the fight, found out it was only to remind Jughead that his father still hadn’t signed up for parent teacher conferences.

“It’s not a matter of you being in trouble,” Weatherbee said sternly, “You’re doing quite well, better than most kids, even in your honors classes. Your father should recognize that.”

“I’d prefer it if he didn’t,” Jughead responded truthfully. He knew what his father would do—he’d be insanely proud of his boy. Those feelings of pride would only be amplified by the copious amounts of liquor he consumed. He’d promise to make Jughead proud of _him_ some day, possibly swear he’d get Jellybean back (depends on _how_ much he had to drink), maybe clean up his act for one or two days and then just spiral down further. It’d be easier if his father didn’t know in the first place, because nothing made Jughead’s stomach turn over with misplaced guilt when he saw how desperately his father tried to make it up to him.

“It’s not up to you, Mr. Jones,” Weatherbee pointed out, “As you can see in your student manual, it’s mandated that all parents schedule at least one conference a year.”

Jughead opened his mouth to attempt to debate with the superintendent but the man continued to say, “Now I know things have been difficult for your family. I’m privy to some of the town talk, you see, and I know he has been…. _struggling_ since your mother— “

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jughead stood up quickly, not wanting to continue the wretched conversation any further, “He’ll be there. I’ll sign him up for…whatever times are left.”

Weatherbee sighed, removing his glasses and looking up at Jughead in utter sincerity, “Forsythe. If your father isn’t taking care of you…we can help.”

“With all due respect, I’m fine,” Jughead responded, practically sprinting out of the door just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day.

He hustled to the library where he was supposed to meet Betty for their English project. He felt nerves building up, even though he wasn’t entirely sure why.

He grabbed a table in the corner of the room, near one of the windows that allowed for ample sunlight.

Veronica had tasked him with setting up his first date with Betty by the end of today. Well, his first not-date date. For _OS_ , of course. He gulped, feeling his cheeks heat up. Jughead told himself he wasn’t nervous about the prospect of asking her out because, _obviously_ , none of this was real for him. He was more concerned that this was the pinnacle of whatever joke she was playing on him. Maybe this is where it ended, maybe Betty had just been tasked with leading him on, only to laugh in his face when he awkwardly asked her out.

“Sorry I’m late!” Betty’s arrival made him snap his head in her direction. She breathlessly pulled out the chair directly in front of him before saying, “Kevin needed help with something.”

He responded to her by simply dragging his copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ out on the desk with his notebook and a few pens.

“Good talk,” she sighed sarcastically, causing him to realize that if he was going to _actually_ pull this off, he may need to actually communicate with her.

“Unfortunately, I do have some bad news,” She admitted, “You missed it, but during class today Mrs. Higginbotham kinda went off the rails at us.” Betty winced at the memory.

“Pft, for what?” Jughead questioned, surprised, “Our rewrite of the first two acts is spot on!”

The blonde looked surprised at the passion behind response, or perhaps by the fact he even responded at all. “Yes _well_ , now she claims she doesn’t rewrites at all. Allegedly there’s some website that already has every Shakespeare work translated into modern language?”

He let out a dry laugh, “You’ve never heard of Sparknotes?”

She blushed a little at that, bashfully saying, “I don’t _cheat_ , Jughead Jones.”

“Neither do I,” he stated before leaning back in the chair and kicking his feet up onto the desk, “But that doesn’t mean I’m _sheltered_.”

“You think I’m sheltered,” she meant to ask, but it came out as more of a question.

“I do,” he admitted before nodding at towards her appearance, “With your all-American girl look, pink pens, perfectly curled hair—”

“You like my hair?” She smirked, giving it a little bounce before challenging him, “So you think _I’m_ sheltered, when you’re the homebody who won’t even come out to a football game on a Friday night?”

“Not all of us only care about sports,” He countered.

“I care about other things,” she said with a pointed look before hastily adding “Like this project!”

He was almost certain that wasn’t what she was referring to, but played along. “So what do we have to change?”

“Well, basically everything,” she elaborated, gesturing to the pile of notes in front of her, “We can’t use any of this. Higginbotham told the whole class to just…throw everything out.” Betty spoke as if the words were foreign to her, the very concept of tossing away hard work was a sin in itself.

“What does she want us to do instead?”  
“We have to take something from the play and _apply_ it to modern day,” Betty explained, “But, fear not, I already have an idea.”

“Star crossed lovers aren’t a thing, Betty,” He responded dully, “So let’s not waste our time trying to make them a _thing_.”

She pursed her lips, “Why not? What’s so bad about believing in love at first sight…or soulmates?” Betty crossed her arms and leaned in, genuinely interested in his sight.

“Love at first sight?” He scoffed, “ _Soulmates?_ I mean there are what, six, seven billion people in this world? And you think that everyone can just get lucky and end up with their true love? It just doesn’t happen Betty, statistically the probability is likely somewhere at .003%. The reality is that if there is such a thing as love at first sight or soulmates…most people don’t find them. Everyone just winds up settling with someone who makes them happy for a few flickers of time…and then they fall out of love or cheat on each other or just…leave. No one _finds_ their soulmates, Betty, Romeo and Juliet were the exception, not the rule…and even still look at how well that ended up for them.” Jughead finally finished his rant with an exhausted intake of breath.

“ _Wow_ ,” she said, somehow out of breath from just listening to his tirade. For someone who just had her notions of love and soulmates stomped all over by a bitter classmate, she still had a coy smile on her face.

“What?” He asked defensively, wondering if she had missed the point.

“You…” she began to start before a bit of laughter fell from her lips, “I knew you were _cynical_ Jughead, but I didn’t know just _how_ cynical you were.”

“Anyway…that wasn’t my idea,” Betty admitted, “The whole star crossed lovers thing is ridiculously overdone.”

“And you just listened to my outburst the whole time? Without stopping me?” He wondered, not sure whether to be annoyed or confused at whatever game she was trying to play.

“You’re pretty cute when you try to single handedly dismantle the entire world of romance and love—as if it’s something you could even _try_ to control,” Her eyes, one minute evergreen and the next a blue to rival the oceans, met his as smiled softly at him. She was so confident in the way she looked at him, like she could destroy his love theories in a mere second with a single touch.

Their eyes stayed locked like that for a few seconds, frozen in time, with Betty looking at him in true amusement and Jughead looking at her like she just discovered fire-and he didn’t know whether to be amazed or afraid of it.

She cleared her throat a minute later, “I was hoping to go in a more _real_ direction, as you’d like to put it, with something that’s already a _thing_ ,” she paused, only continuing when she saw the expectant look on his face, “Um, suicide.”

At the word, Jughead shifted positions uncomfortably, placing his feet flat on the floor, “Are you _insane_? That’s ridiculous!”

Defensively, she narrowed her eyes at him, “ _Why_?”

“What are you trying to do? Piggyback off of _Thirteen Reasons Why_?” He accused, “Romeo and Juliet are _idiots_ , they killed themselves in the name of love-for someone they had only known for less than a week!”

“Maybe they wouldn’t have, or wouldn’t have needed to resort to Juliet faking her own death if they had anyone in life besides each other,” She countered with a raised brow, “Their parents put _unrealistic_ expectations on them, their lives were fueled by hatred! Look at Juliet, her parents only interest in her was to just marry her off to some creep, her own cousin was _killed_ , The Nurse and only mother figure in her life turned on her! Romeo was exiled for avenging the death of his best friend…the only people they had were each other—and those are _real_ problems.”

“Not sure what it’s like where you came from,” Jughead rolled his eyes, not wanting to admit she had a point, “But you’re in Riverdale-The Town With Pep!, suicide isn’t really an issue here.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not an issue anywhere else!”

“So you think our little English project can save the world?” He laughed humorlessly.

“It’s not a _joke_ ,” She gritted out and instantly he could feel his laughter die in his chest. He glanced up at her to note that her demeanor had completely changed. Her eyes could freeze over active volcanos, her shoulders hunched defensively and her hand was gripping that pink pen of hers with such force he was worried it’d snap. She became so solemn in a matter of seconds, emanating waves of darkness that caught Jughead off guard.

“When the Capulets and the Montagues saw what their children had done do you know what they did?” She asked him, voice brittle.

“They made golden statues of them together to stand over Verona.”

“As if _that_ , some trophy, could gloss over the carnage,” She said sullenly, “I know it’s not a perfect metaphor, but it’s _something_.”

Jughead was still so taken aback by the difference in her disposition that he just nodded, “We can make it work. But Betty…why do you care so much?”

She was surprised by his question, letting the emotion flash across her pristine face for a second before sharply stating, “Someone has to.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall; it was already nearly five o’clock. “I better get going,” she fished her jacket out of her bag.

Jughead shook his head when he saw her slip on the letterman varsity jacket, unable to keep another humorless laugh at bay. “You’ve been here for what? A grand total of two seconds and they’ve already given you that thing?”

And instantly, as if a switch had been flipped, she slid back into the same, easygoing pace, “Maybe they’d give you one too if you played a sport.”

“Really?” He asked sarcastically, biting the corner of his pen cap, “That’s what those are for?”

“Yep,” she shrugged, “Believe it or not.”

“And _you_ play a sport?” He kept the bit up, “What was it? Ultimate Frisbee? Water polo?”

She laughed and played along, “Cheerleading, actually.”

“Never heard of it,” he smirked, “Is that the one where you guys toss pointy metal objects in the air and pray to whatever god you believe in that moment that you’ll catch it?”

“Oh _no_ ,” She corrected, actually a bit offended, “That’s _color guard_. Ugh.” She let out a small shudder as the words left her mouth.

“Ah right, marching band, clearly beneath you, I forgot,” He rolled his eyes. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. In eight grade I tried _out_ for winter guard at my school since I didn’t have cheer after fall and they rejected me!” Betty explained, clearly still hurt by the situation although it had happened years prior.

“No way,” He laughed, far too amused for his own good. He mocked a feign surprised as he said, “Betty Cooper was _actually_ rejected?”

She laughed before playfully tapping him on the shoulder, “You _know_ , Friday night would be the perfect opportunity for you to learn what cheerleading is.”

A half smile fell across his face and he realized that this was it, he had to ask her, and he couldn’t back down, “You know I actually have to write a piece about the game…. you know,fo- for the, uh, school paper…” he stammered nervously.

“ _Really_? You don’t say?”

“Yeah,” he blushed, “Maybe I could get an interview from you, after the game. At Pop’s.”

If the stars decided to shine at all that night, they’d never compare to stunning smile that broke out across Bettys face, “I’d love that.”

“Good,” he responded, trying to sound cool.

“It’s a date.”

He should have felt happy about the fact that he could move into the next phase of _OS_ , relieved that everything was going smoothly so far. But instead he felt a nervous excitement build up inside of him, a large grin breaking across his face for reasons that had nothing to do with his secret assignment. He tried to remind himself that Betty was insincere, this was equally apart of a master plan for her as it was for him, but he wanted to capture the moment and savor it for just a second.

\--

“Did Riverdale’s very own Grinch just nod _and_ smile at you?” Kevin Keller whispered in Betty’s ear, breathless from excitement.

They had just passed each other as the bell for first period rang on Thursday morning. Betty’s heart soared when he didn’t pretend he didn’t see her-instead he gave the slightest nod in her direction with a smile. She reciprocated more than eagerly, still smiling when Kevin approached her.

When she affirmed his question, Kevin all but screeched in excitement, “No _way!_ It might just been an urban legend but we’re all pretty sure he hasn’t smiled since, like, kindergarten. I can’t believe it.”

“We have a date too,” she responded shyly, “Friday night. After the game.”

“He’s going to the game?” Kevin was appalled, “On a Friday night? And on a date? With you? _What?”_

“Do you have a problem with that?” Betty questioned, a bit coldly.

“Not at _all_ girl,” He stated before looking back at the beanie retreating into the sea of students, “But this better not be a _scam_. What does Cheryl have to say about this?”

“Cheryl doesn’t _own_ me Kevin. I don’t need her permission.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Smurfette,” Cheryl’s voice rang through the emptying hallway, as she heard every word of Betty’s claim. She sauntered out of their homeroom class, “You may have _some_ talent, Cooper, but I run this team. I don’t let any of _my_ girls date outside of our inner circle of jocks.” 

“You know inner circle dating is how incest happens, right Cheryl?” Kevin asked sarcastically.

The ginger goddess ignored him with a subtle flip of her hair and stepping towards the couple to square herself with Betty, “And I’ve been _easy_ on you Betty. Do you know what some girls have had to go through to join this squad? Ginger had to send a topless pic to Moose to face the wrath of Midge, and I made Tina _swallow_ a goldfish. And let’s not forget every three am wake up call to run track in the morning.

“When you refused a make out sesh with Dilton Doiley so we could use the opportunity to fill his locker with dead bugs because of your high moral grounds or whatever, I let it slide. But you don’t make the rules, Betty-you follow them.”

“Or else what? You’ll kick me off the team,” The blonde did her best bitch stance, crossing her arms and popping her hip slightly with an unimpressed look, “And lose your shot at nationals? Because if you want to play that game then fine, let’s play. Maybe my mom can talk to the Board of Ed about changing the budget for the Vixens, maybe you don’t _really_ need those new uniforms, hm? And maybe I can tell your parents the real reason why Jason quit football?”

“Leave Jayjay out of this,” Cheryl spoke softly but menacingly, “Why do you even _care_? Jughead’s a freak.”

“You could say that about _anyone_ ,” Betty narrowed her eyes, unimpressed, “I could say you’re a freak. Some people would even say that _Polly_ is a freak—”

At the mention of Polly’s name, Cheryl’s eyes widened in alarm and she held up a dainty hand to halt the other girl, “That’s enough. Have it your way, Betty, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She spun on her heel back into their class and Betty moved to follow suit when Kevin stopped her.

“Wait,” he paused, confused, “Who the hell is Polly?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretend theres a gif of someone doing jazz hands right here


	3. Running Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aswellingstorm.tumblr.com

Today was going to be a perfect day, Betty was _sure_ of it. She couldn’t fight off the smile that seemed to stay on her face since _the_ Jughead Jones had asked her out on a date. She practically leapt out of bed that morning, waking up a few minutes early so she could make sure she had everything she needed for the school day, game and her _date_ afterwards-even thinking about it made her have suppress a small squeal of excitement.

Before heading downstairs, she took one final glance at her reflection in the mirror- It was standard for the River Vixens to wear their uniforms on the day of game, a rule that Cheryl Blossom followed religiously but just made Betty roll her eyes. She loved to cheer, it had been a part of her for as long as she could remember, but she was more interested in the _act_ of it and less in the smoke and mirrors aspect that the team’s captain seemed to adore. She pulled her curled ponytail tightly to adjust it before turning around and grabbing her books and cheer bag.

She nearly skipped into the kitchen, so caught up her own elation that she even brewed a cup of tea for the very pregnant blonde haired girl sitting at the kitchen table, reading something intently on her phone. Wordlessly, Betty placed the steaming mug in front of her sister, neglecting the awed look she was given.

“Thank you, Betty,” the older girl said softly, still surprised.

Betty disregarded the notion of gratitude-ignoring Polly steadfastly as she had been doing for the past few months. Their parents, while still cold to Polly, had been more cordial to her than Betty had been.

Still, Betty ate her buttered toast in silence while sipping on her own cup of tea. The air between the two girls was filled with rigid and strained, motivating Betty to finish her food faster as Polly kept glancing at her as if she had something to say.

When she was about to head out the door, Polly finally spoke again, “Jason might be coming over after the game…just, please don’t tell mom and Dad.”

Betty wanted to remind her that she never had before, but instead she nodded briskly before beginning her morning trek to school.

\--

It had become a force of habit for her to instantly seek Jughead out of a crowd of students. This morning was no exception, but she hadn’t found him in his usual spot. Normally he was leaned against the first row of lockers, talking to Veronica or Ethel before distractedly meeting Betty’s gaze with a small smile in lieu of a verbal greeting.

 But today, he was standing outside of Principle Weatherbee’s office with a gloomy look on his face. He seemed upset about something, lips down turned as he spoke to Veronica hurriedly. When Betty walked into the school she had caught his eye, as she always did, but he only glanced at her in the briefest of ways today. The raven haired girl appeared gravely concerned at what he was saying, channeling her worry into a protective sort of anger. From where Betty was standing, she could overhear the girl ranting about how _ridiculous_ and _unfair_ whatever they were discussing was.

Betty had planned her morning so that she might get to school a bit early and take advantage of the opportunity to talk to Jughead a bit more since they hadn’t _really_ spoken since Wednesday night, but now she felt an overwhelming wave of concern wash over her. She’d seen the boy look angry and upset before, primarily at whatever jock had felt the need to truly display his steroid-fueled idiocy more that day. She’d even seen him look annoyed and disgruntled-occassionally at _her_ , but she could tell it was all a front.

But she had never seen him look like _this_ \- so tired, defeated, and she hated to say it but _hopeless._ A too-large part of her wanted to march over to him and do something, anything, to make the situation better but she knew it was better to keep her distance from the situation for the moment.

That didn’t stop the sharp throb of jealousy that swelled in her chest when Veronica pulled Jughead into a tight hug, with her hand gently rubbing his back. Betty felt her face flush with red, deepening further when Veronica sent her a strange look as they pulled apart. She straightened her back, prepared to walk past them and into her first period class when Principle Weatherbee’s office door flew open. A mature, older and quite frankly _beautiful_ woman confidently strutted out of the doors, standing behind Veronica and putting her hands on the younger girl’s shoulders. Noting the similarities in their features and putting the pieces together, Betty figured the woman was Veronica’s mother.

 The woman sent a bright smile to the principle, comfortingly rubbing Jughead’s arm in a motherly manner. The blonde couldn’t quite hear the conversation as she walked past, trying to seem nonchalant, only just making out the tail-end of their conversation.

“Well, I’m certain that Forsythe appreciates your hospitality _greatly_ ,” Principle Weatherbee announced sternly, prompting Jughead to nod his head in agreement.

“Hiram certainly won’t mind having another man in the house, especially since he’s always off on his business trips,” Mrs. Lodge remarked wistfully.

“Most of the time he takes you with him,” Veronica muttered under her breath, loudly enough for Mrs. Lodge gently poke her side and for Betty to overhear but softly enough to escape Principle Weatherbee’s ears.

The new intake of information was disorienting to Betty. An overwhelming amount of thoughts came rushing to her head; What was wrong with Jughead? Was he living with Veronica now? Where was his family? Were his parents allowing this to happen? Why were Veronica’s parents allowing this to happen? Is Forsythe _actually_ his name? Are Jughead/Forsythe and Veronica…a thing? She could feel herself spiraling so she shook her head and willed herself to pull it together.

She entered the classroom of her Home Ec class, less convinced about how _perfect_ of a day this was going to turn out to be. The sharp cutting scent of jalapeno’s cut through her nostrils as she took a seat next to Kevin at their table. The Home Ec tables were made out of some cheap marble-like material, looking dangerously similar to the lab tables in the science rooms, and sat four students to a unit so that they were facing each other. There was an oven, sink and stove at each table and Betty recalled that today was the day Mrs. Grundy, also her history teacher, would judge them on how well they could replicate a salsa recipe.

She knew that Veronica was _also_ in this class, but was surprised to see her come in and take a seat in front of Kevin and Betty. Betty and Kevin exchanged a weary glance but were willing to ignore the sudden intrusion when Veronica spoke,

 “Can I give you a bit of friendly advice?” She asked, attempting to sound sweet but both Betty and Kevin could detect an underlying territorial tone.

When Betty nodded in affirmation, the raven haired girl continued to say, “Do _not_ ask Jughead about what just happened. If you want any chance with him, let it go.”

 “Wait, what happened?” Kevin looked at Betty, but she just stared at Veronica with her brow quirked.

“Alright,” she breathed out, “But…is he okay? Is there anything I can do to—”

 “Not that it’s any of _your_ business, but he’s fine,” Veronica answered with snark, “I’ve got it figured out.”

“Why wouldn’t it be my business?” Betty folded her arms across her chest, irritated. 

“Oh please, you can cut the crap Cooper,” Veronica rolled her eyes, “ _Everyone_ knows about you and Archie—” Betty paled instantly at the mention of the ginger-she thought it would’ve been _old_ news at this point. She hoped the circulation of their group date, one they had gone on weeks ago, would’ve stopped circulating by now. Nothing had become of them and nothing ever would, so long as Betty had a say in the matter. 

“Miss Cooper,” Just as Betty wanted to respond, Mrs. Grundy appeared behind the table, carrying their grade reports, “Excellent work, as always. You gave it just the right amount of kick,” The older woman said with a wink as she passed their sheets out, “Kevin, you too. Seems like ever since Miss Cooper came around you’ve improved a fair bit. Miss Lodge…I’ll give you until the end of class to fix yours.” 

When the teacher handed Veronica her grade sheet, she looked down at in in shock and confusion.

“ _Lacking flavor?_ ” Veronica read aloud as Mrs. Grundy walked on to other students, “How is that possible?”

Kevin snickered as Betty fished through the drawers of the mini fridge under the counter, “Can I give you a bit of friendly advice?” The blonde mocked as she poked her head up.

Annoyed, Veronica was about to snap at her when Betty slid three jalapenos’ to her, “Use at least three of these. Leave the seeds in. Mrs. Grundy likes her spice.”

 “Pretty sure that woman doesn’t have much stomach liner left,” Kevin commented, the two friends relishing in the shocked look on Veronica’s face. 

\--

Betty took her usual seat in history, right next to Jughead. He was sitting with his head in his crossed arms, looking peacefully asleep when she walked in. Veronica wasn’t far behind her, taking her newly-typical seat in front of the pair. She turned around to flick him in the forehead a few times, effectively waking him up and sending Betty a warning glare. Jughead groaned as he lifted his head up, leaning it into his left hand.

Betty was always a morning person and had no qualms about running on just a few hours of sleep, which is why she found the sleepy boy next to her incredibly endearing and _cute_. He rubbed at the corner of his tired, red eye and she hurriedly ripped out a piece of her notebook paper to script on. 

**_Rise and shine sleeping beauty :)_ **

He messily scrawled back to her.

**_No._ **

It was only one word, but that was one word more than what she’d gotten from him on prior occasions.

**_Or should I say…sleeping Forsythe?_ **

She wrote back teasingly, noticing him stiffen next to her when he read it.  Betty was a bit worried she had crossed the line Veronica had vaguely drawn-he’d never told her his real name, teachers and other students alike never used it in class, and- 

 ** _Don’t you DARE  _**He underlined the final word vigorously before passing it back to her.

**_Why not? :( If I had_ known _that was really your name, I could’ve come up with a better nickname!_**

**** **_Try as you might, Elizabeth, but making the name Forsythe sound appealing, shortened or elongated, is a feat that not even you could accomplish._ **

She wrinkled her nose at the use of her full name-at once understanding why Jughead wouldn’t appreciate his either. 

 ** _What about…Sythe?_** He laughed out loud at her suggestion, nearly loud enough to grab their teacher’s attention. It wasn’t a forced or darkened laugh either, she could see the genuine smile on his face. Betty felt a small sense of pride within her. She had just made the man whose personal raincloud rivaled those of the greatest storms _smile._ Truly, genuinely.

**_Sythe sounds like some douchebag biker guy who low-key helps old ladies cross the street or the kinda guy who’d be assigned to door duty at frat parties because no one actually wants him inside the house_ **

She laughed softly at the wordy descriptions, **_Well…have you helped any old ladies cross the street while you were biking to a frat house?_**

**_Could you ever picture me at a frat house? For any reason other than to set it on fire?_ **

**_Valid. Guess I’ll just have to stick to Juggie :)_ **

He shook his head instantly, **_Wild concept: you could just call me Jughead, like everybody else._**

 ** _I’m not ‘everybody else’._** She didn’t mean for it sound so _serious_ but when she passed him the note, the smile dropped from his face—vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Something had shifted in the air between them, she could feel it when they locked eyes. There was a particular look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place, but the intensity left her breathless and her stomach fluttering.

  ** _Touché, Betts, touché._**

She’d never given her own name much thought, but in the back of her mind assumed that there’s no way _Betty_ could be shortened any further. _Beth_ , sure, but something about _Betts_ and the fact that it came from him, Juggie, made it special. She laughed a bit, nodding her head in approval as she tucked the paper into the back pocket of her binder. He returned her smile with utter sincerity, neither of them noticing the soft look Veronica had shot them.

\--

“You have a date with _Jughead_?” Archie walked up to her in the hallway, she could make out the nervous quiver in his voice.

She was already late to lunch and the day had been dragging on far too slowly for her liking-so she was a bit impatient with the ginger.

“Yes,” Betty confirmed curtly.

“What the hell?” He demanded in a hushed tone, even though the hallway was fairly clear-save for a few figures that were talking in the direction they were headed. “I thought that we-that you and I-”

“That _what_?” She stopped turning towards him, eyes darting about the hallway. “That I was still going to pretend to be your fake girlfriend?”

“That was the deal—” He tried to argue before she cut him off.

“ _No_. The deal was _one_ group date because your dad was getting… _suspicious,”_ She felt awkward, shifting uncomfortably, “As long as you don’t tell anyone about—”

“Polly,” he was exasperated, “Yeah I know. Jason would beat the crap out of me if I told anyone anyway.”

“So?” she sighed impatiently, “What do you want from me?”

“I need more time-just a few more dates because now Reggie and Moose are on my ass about it too. And things are…getting pretty serious between, uh, her and I.”

She shook her head, denying the request, “Arch, you told me you were going to try to break it off with her.

“Betty, I can’t. You have to understand that!” He pleaded, “What I feel for her…what we have is _real_.”

His words didn’t sit well with her, and she could feel dread swelling in her stomach. What he was talking about-it wasn’t right. “I’m worried about you, Archie,” she admitted, “It-it’s not healthy. I mean, I only agreed to a _fake_ date because our families have been friends for so long and…I don’t want to know what my mom would do if everyone found out about…Polly. But this has gone too far.” 

“Come on,” He was desperate, “Just a few more dates to through everyone off the trail-.”

“ _No!_ ” She repeated, growing more irritated with the foolish boy in front of her, “I upheld my end of the bargain-now it’s time for you to do the same.”

Betty was prepared to skip lunch altogether, stalk off into the other direction if it meant ending the conversation with Archie. But then she heard a familiar voice at the end of the hallway. 

“Back off you _creeps_ ,” She heard Veronica spit the words out, grabbing Archie’s attention. At the sound of her voice, he ran down the hallway towards her with Betty following quickly behind.

“What?” Reggie said with a sick smirk, “We’re just messing around, right Moose?”

The latter agreed as they moved closer to her threatingly.

“Yeah, we’re just worried about you,” Moose replied, “Don’t want people to think you hopped on the lesbo-train, do you?” 

“Oh yeah?” She cocked her head to the side, “That’d be a lot _better_ than people thinking I mingled with two slimy teenage boys who still haven’t discovered the wonders of deodorant.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Reggie question, offended and squinting his eyes.

“Hey back off her guys,” Archie called out, walking towards them.

Reggie just snorted before turning to them, “Tch. You don’t get to have Cooper _and_ Lodge man, that’s just not fair. Unless you wanna swap?” The look her gave Betty sent her stomach turning with nausea.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Archie was firmer this time, more serious, “Unless you want me to remind Coach Miller about drug testing tonight.” 

Reggie looked like he wanted to say something and fight back but the doors leading to courtyard opened, Jughead and Ethel walking through them. Moose put a hand on his shoulder and urged, “Let’s just go man.” 

“This isn’t over,” Reggie promised, glancing at Veronica and Archie.

Once they cleared, Veronica seemed a bit speechless. She stared at their retreating fingers, irritated.

“Ronnie,” Archie stepped forward, “Are you okay?”

Jughead and Ethel paled instantly, leaving Betty to assume that Archie was about to regret voicing his concern. Out of Veronica’s sight, Jughead motioned for Archie to stop and back off but the ginger ignored him. 

“Don’t worry about them, they’re just assholes—” He said, about to comfortingly place his hand on her shoulder.

“If they’re _just_ assholes, then what the hell does that make you, Archie Andrews?” Veronica turned to him.

“What-what do you mean?”

 “Why the hell do you even _care_?” She seethed, “You sure as shit didn’t care before!”

“I’ve always cared! You just… uh, you don’t understand,” He provided lamely and Betty just shook her head at him. Jughead looked like he wanted nothing more than to punch Archie in that moment.

“I don’t understand?” She questioned rhetorically, “Yeah, you’re right! I don’t understand why you just…just ditched me!”

“Huh?” He asked dumbly, unknowing.

“On the Fourth of July?” She continued, “My family’s barbecue?” When a look of realization finally crossed his face, she laughed dryly, “Oh my _god_. You didn’t even know, did you? You didn’t even remember…” She shook her head, feeling her eyes moisten.

“Veronica I’m so—”

“Save it, asshole,” she snapped, turning to stalk into the women’s bathroom attached to the locker room a few feet away. Betty followed her closely behind, not willing to throw Archie so much as a glance.

Once inside, she found Veronica sitting on the bench, purse sprawled on the floor with her fingers gently patting under her eyes as she looked up towards the ceiling.

“La Prairie foundation?” the blonde guessed softly.

Veronica laughed wetly, “The one and only.”

“Did you know there’s a way cheaper dupe of that foundation?” She said.  
  
“Money isn’t really an issue for me,” The other girl responded shortly.

Betty held up her hands defensively, “I’m just saying. In case you ever _do_ want to cry over some _moron_.”

“Isn’t that _moron_ your boyfriend?” Veronica accused lightly, both of them knowing that wasn’t the case.

“Is it snowing in hell?” She shot back.

“Why don’t you ask Cheryl? Satan’s mistress must be familiar with the weather patterns,” the tearful girl commented dryly.

Betty’s laughter took them both by surprise. It rang out across the bathroom, nearly causing her to double over. The blonde was so used to Cheryl’s cynicism, her lack of humor, that Veronica’s was a rather welcome surprise. It was contagious and soon Veronica joined Betty, tears now forming from laughter instead of pain.

When they calmed down, Betty sat next to Veronica on the bench. “He’s an idiot, you know that right?”

 “Anyone who’s ever heard him _speak_ knows that,” She replied, “But still…I just thought…he wasn’t like any of the assholes I dated in New York.”

“My family has been friends with his for a long time,” Betty admitted, “He’s totally clueless, he’s always been, for as long as I can remember.”

“I don’t find that hard to believe,” Veronica agreed.

“He’s going through…a lot right now,” Betty spoke again, “It’s not an excuse for him to be so…daft? Is that the right word? But maybe one day he’ll pull his head out of his ass and come to his senses.” 

If Veronica was curious about what Betty stated, she didn’t press further. “He’s already lost his chance.” 

“You’re too good for him anyway,” Betty responded truthfully, shrugging her shoulders.

“So are you,” Veronica said seriously, looking down at the floor. Betty felt a little bit guilty and she wanted to tell Veronica the truth-certain that her fake date with Archie might have been the reason why Veronica had been so cold to her. She decided against it, standing up quickly and looking back down. 

“So then,” Betty extended a hand towards Veronica to help her get off the low-sitting bench, “Let’s go then. He’s already wasted enough of our time.”

Veronica smiled at her as she took her hand and pulled herself up. Arms linked, they were about to walk out the door when the noticed Ethel awkwardly standing by it. 

“Oh,” Veronica said, surprised, “Ethel? When did you get here? I didn’t even notice you!”

\--

Betty was the last one out of the locker room before their halftime routine. They still didn’t go on for another few minutes yet but the rest of the squad was excitedly lined up outside near the football field. Friday night games were everyone’s favorite-including Betty’s. She believed Friday nights always garnered the biggest crowds, the most passionate of fans, and everyone was anxious to show their school spirit at the game. The performance of the night is what made every minute-every second of relentless re-runs of the same eight count segments worth it.

There was a nervous energy that buzzed under Betty’s skin, a glowing smile on her face that she didn’t have to _force_ there. During game time, she could easily slip into another persona. Betty was focused only on perfectly executing every movement in the carefully choreographed routines, chanting every cheer louder and with more excitement than the rest of the squad and never-breaking her smile. Staying determined on these goals, having them be the only things that she had to worry about, was a rather welcome escape from her reality.

Once she left the locker room, she could leave her gripes about her parents, antipathy towards her sister, irritation with Archie, _the_ incident and all of her…less than pleasant memories about the past year behind. None of it mattered when she was performing, so she gleefully exited the locker room and pushed out of the double doors leading to the outside world waiting for her.

The rest of the Vixens were talking happily amongst themselves as they waited to line up on the field. Betty took her place next to Cheryl at the beginning of the line.

 “Nice of you to join us,” Cheryl sneered.

She just ignored the ringleader, rolling her shoulders back as she let her eyes rake through the crowds sitting on the bleachers. Unsurprisingly, her parents were absent-Betty assumed they must be chasing down a new lead for an article. With Kevin at the fundraising table, she was disappointed to realize that she didn’t know a single soul sitting in the crammed rows of bleachers. The smile began to fall from her face and she wished she hadn’t searched at all. Balling her fists, she could feel herself begin to spiral. Was he just not going to show up? Was he _ever_ going to? Was-

 _No_. She took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down, focus, and get back into game mode. Betty kept telling herself to breathe, repeating it in her head like a mantra as she walked onto the turf field, feeling the gravel and fake grass under her shoes. As she moved to get in formation, just off the fifty-yard line and on Cheryl’s right side, she looked up to see _him_ standing there, leaning up against the fencing in front of the bleachers.

Veronica and Ethel were flanked on either side of them, wearing maroon outfits that complimented each other. He was dressed in black jeans and a black jean jacket with a heather grey shirt beneath it. It was his distinct beanie that drew her attention to him-setting him apart from everyone else, as it had on her first day at Riverdale. She was pleasantly surprised to notice that he had already been looking at her with a small smile on his face-he was the one to find her _first_ for a change. 

And with that look it felt like time had frozen all over again for them. The roaring of the crowds dulled and the bright lights of the field seemed to fade until he was all she could see. Betty felt her heart hammering ever so slightly in her chest as they locked eyes, a warmth spreading across her body. The feeling was dizzying-she’s had crushes on boys before, gone on dates and was even in the briefest of relationships with someone she didn’t dare name-but none of them chalked up to how she felt in that moment.

 She pondered briefly, curious if this is how Polly felt when she cheered knowing Ch- _he_ was in the stands.

Jughead was the first thing she had seen when she walked into Riverdale High, another moment forever locked into her brain. He was her first impression of the new school, when she saw him she just _knew_ that things would be different for her this time. It was a heavy bet to make on the basis of just seeing a beautiful stranger but there was something about him that was just…so _unalike_ from what she’d seen before. She thought she had it all figured out, seen every personality and disposition in the book and could put everyone in a box. 

But then there he was-a beanie wearing handsome boy who’d go from looking at her with a mirrored look of enrapture Ent only to be shoved into a row of lockers later and then to comfort Ethel—because the pain the jocks inflicted on her was greater than his own. He’d ignore Betty’s compliments and efforts at breaking the ice because he couldn’t be bought-but then she’d catch his lingering stares. He was so new to her, a concept so foreign, that the idea of them, _together_ , sent adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Their shared moment, mutual trance, was broken when Betty saw Veronica fishing her camera out of its bag, the flash going off as she snapped a picture of them-or maybe it had just been her, she couldn’t quite tell. In the same instant, the opening music for their routine started and Betty realized she had started a beat behind. She caught up quickly and banished any thoughts of him from her mind until the routine was over, praying no one-least of all Cheryl- had noticed her minor slip up.

 --

After the game ended, the blonde all-but darted back to the locker room to get changed. She rifled through her bag, picking out the white sweater and blue jeans she had packed earlier this morning. She slipped them on quickly, neatly folding her uniform and placing it gently inside of her bag. Gently, she pulled her hair out of the ponytail, flipping her head over to break up the loose curls that had formed. With a quick look in the mirror she swiped on a quick coat of a pink-tinted nude lipstick.

She was rounding the corner of the hallway, surprised to notice that most of the crowd was already gone when she collided into a moving brick wall, better known as Jason Blossom. He was wearing regular street clothes-still an odd sight to see after he had quit the football team. Everyone, including Betty, was certain it wouldn’t last-that he’d come back crawling to Coach Miller in a week to beg for his spot back. But he still hadn’t and he seemed…content.

“Betty!” He said, relieved, “I was just looking for you.”

Unwilling to entertain him further, she rolled her eyes and adjusted the bag strap resting on her shoulder.  “What do you want, Jason?”

 He looked a bit hurt by her tone, upset that at least one of the Cooper girls hadn’t warmed up to him, “Did Polly tell you—”

“That you’d be coming over? Yeah. Hope you can stick a landing from a second story window,” She commented dryly.

His eyes grew wide with concern, “Why? Are your parents home?" 

She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, “I don’t know. They could be. You two have to be careful.” 

“We are,” he promised earnestly, “You could always come hang with us if you wanted. Cheryl could come too.”

With forced politeness she responded, “Thanks Jason, but I’ve got plans tonight.”

Betty knew he was just being nice to her, maybe trying to reconnect her and Polly but she wasn’t interested.

“I heard,” he smiled and nodded his head to the end of the hall where Jughead was approaching.

“Hey Juggie,” She called out to him with a slight wave. He stopped a few feet behind them as if some sort of barrier surrounding Jason prevented him from taking even one more step forward.

 As Jason finished up their conversation, she could feel Jughead looking at her intently. “Well I’m gonna head out then…Betty- my offer still stands.”

 “Thanks,” she said with a firm smile as he headed back out the doors towards the football field.

They began to walk towards the opposite end of the school, vying for the front exit that’d bring them closer to Pops.

“What was that all about?” He asked finally with a tight voice.

“Oh, uh,” she said with a blush, “That was nothing.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” He asserted, looking at her with suspicion.

Betty sighed again, “I promise it’s not a big deal, okay?”

“Any _offer_ coming from Jason Blossom is a big deal,” She wondered if that was a bit of _jealousy_ in his tone or she was just imagining it.

 “He wasn’t asking me out, if that’s what your worried about,” Betty stated plainly.

She caught him off guard, he looked a bit embarrassed as he sputtered “I-uh-I wasn’t, you know, I didn’t think that.”

She knew she hit the nail on the head and smiled, “I’m sure.” 

They fell into the same pace, arms brushing as they walked together. “Veronica told me to tell you something about being a less-evil, more talented Quinn Fab-something.”

She laughed at that, “Quinn Fabray? Really. I’m glad she liked it. I was a little off my game tonight.” She admitted, looking down.

He stopped suddenly, looking at her in pure amazement, “Are you joking?” he asked her, flabbergasted, “You were _incredible_ out there. I mean-seriously, the best on the team,” he began to blush when he realized the words slipped out, “Cheryl doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

Betty smiled bashfully, she hadn’t been fishing for compliments but eagerly accepted the praise. “So is it fair to say that I’ve converted you to a guy who will occasionally attend football games?”

He nodded sincerely, “As long as you’re there.”

They began to walk again and she felt the excitement that she experienced at the beginning of the day come flowing back to her. It was _real_ , finally happening. They were going on their first date, no more distractions.

Tragically, as soon as those thoughts entered her head they heard clamoring coming from the music room. Metal desks were pushed against the tiled floor, chairs causing a racket as they were moved and upturned. Betty and Jughead ran to the room, initial thoughts concerned with whether or not someone was hurt. They peered inside and immediately Betty let out an exasperated groan because- of course- there was Archie, heavily making out with an unmistakable Ms. Grundy. The look on Jughead’s face was a mixture of pure shock and utter horror.

Friday was turning out to be pretty damn _unperfect_ for Betty Cooper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter really got away from me! i originally planned to have their first date in this chapter but that didn't happen ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ i'm going to try to finish this fic + 48 hours before I go back to college and have to be on hiatus until may so hopefully updates will be more regular on both!
> 
> hope you all enjoyed!


	4. Bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When the evening pulls the sun down and the day is almost through; the whole world it is sleeping but my world is you. Can I be close to you?"

Jughead was staring at Betty wearily as they slid into a booth at Pop’s. She wouldn’t look at him-hadn’t since she had to drag his stone-cold stunned self away from the trainwreck, hurricane, forty-car pile up accident, natural disaster-whatever you want to call it, that was Archie Andrews life.

This was _big_ , he couldn’t wait to tell Veronica about it. It was also, of course, _terrible_ , known to the law as statutory rape-- and would only bring about further chaos-but Jughead wasn’t so interested in _that_ aspect of it. Golden boy Archie Andrews had fallen from the diamond-cut marble pedastle that he was put on. One that only rose in height with each touchdown, each so-bad-it’s-kinda-good song he wrote, each time he got a semi-passing grade on a test.

 His mind was spinning, he didn’t even know _where_ to begin with this. He was wondering when and where this even began for Archie. How did it even begin? Also, why? _Good god_ , why? Who thought this was a good idea? Was it a one-time thing? Did he and Betty just happen to stumble into a less-than spectacular moment in the chronicles of Archie Andrews? Or was the moment they witnessed simply a culmination of poor decisions? Was Archie on such a loose leash that his own father hadn’t even noticed?

“I’ve heard the burgers here are pretty good,” Betty mentioned, looking over the menu with a forced yet somehow calm air about her.

Jugheads brows furrowed in confusion. She was the total opposite of him-sitting across the table as the perfect picture of politeness. Betty had her bag and jacket arranged-was that jacket _seriously_ folded?- next to her.In the midst of his manic thoughts, he’d began crinkling the used cups of creamer without realizing it, bending them and strewing them across his side of the table with an anxious energy. All the while, Betty had been sitting stoic, as if they both hadn’t just witnessed what Jughead equated to be just as horrible as the time he had accidentally walked in on his parents doing what parents do when their child relentlessly begs them for a sibling.

When she noticed him staring at her, she looked up and faked confusion, “What? Do you have something against _burgers_?”

If Betty was trying to distract him by question his love for the staples of American food, it nearly worked. He cleared his throat, biting an argument down and asked, “Are we just…not going to talk about _it_?”

Slowly she blinked and it felt like the atmosphere surrounding them had stilled. The jukebox paused, the surrounding chatter faded out, the glowing neon open sign hummed a bit softer, the cooks were yelling at each other more quietly. “Talk about what?” She inquired, keeping her voice even.

“Seriously?” His right brow raised itself in a mixture of surprise and irritation, “The giant red-haired elephant in the room?” When she continued to look at him with mocked innocence he added, “You know, the one that’s _consummating_ his apparent union with the geeky gazelle? If Darwinism holds true she should have been probably been maimed already.”

Fire spread across her eyes and she forcefully put her hand over his and ducked her head down, “Will you keep your voice down?” she demanded, voice barely above a whisper.

He knew her touch wasn’t romantic in nature, a physical gesture to make him stop talking, but he couldn’t help but be the slightest bit shell-shocked. Betty’s hand felt so soft on top of his, a bit cold from the well-air conditioned diner, her fingers barely grazing his wrist. The contact, combined with the intense look in her eyes, sent goosebumps peaking across his arm.

Jugheads brain finally caught up with him, “Why? For what?”

“The whole _town_ doesn’t need to know!” She exclaimed, exasperated.

“And why’s that? They can’t bear to see their beloved hometown hero get besmirched?”

“ _Because_ ,” she stressed, “It’s not our business. And he doesn’t deserve to have his…his dirty laundry paraded around here like some sort of a show!”

He rolled his eyes at that, “Betty. He’s…what he’s doing, it’s _illegal._ ”

“It’s not what _he’s_ doing,” she defended, “It’s what _she’s_ doing. He’s a minor. We’re only _seventeen_ , it’s statutory rape!” Realizing her voice escalated in volume, she looked about the room cautiously, evaluating the other diner-goers with uncertainty.

“Exactly!” He agreed, lowering his head to meet her eyes, “That’s why I have to do something!”

“Something like what?” Betty huffed, “Tell the whole school? Publicly embarrass him so you can finally get back at him for what he did to Veronica?”

Jughead swallowed, looking guilty, “Despite what you may think, based on you knowing him for all of what? Five seconds? He’s not the greatest guy.” In a brief moment, he noticed something funny flicker over her expression and she looked like she wanted to argue with Jughead, but paused.

She breathed out, “Look, I know what he did to Veronica was seriously messed up. But people make mistakes, they don’t deserve to…” she trailed off, trying to find the right words.

“To what? Face consequences for their actions?” Jughead filled in.

“This isn’t _our_ business, Jughead,” she stated firmly, looking pale and pulling her hand away from his-a loss he didn’t anticipate feeling.

“Then who’s is it?” Anger seeped into his voice, “Weatherbee’s? His dads? I mean, _come on_ , Betty! I figured that _you_ , Miss Sanctimonious, would care about this!”

“I _do_ care,” she insisted, emotion swelling in her voice. Her shoulders sank and she turned her gaze to the window. “You know what? I should…I’m just going-,” She began to grab her belongings hastily, moving to slide out of the booth.

“No-Betty! Wait,” he called after her with a sliver of panic in his voice. She halted her movements quickly, looking at him expectantly much to his own surprise. “I…I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this anymore if you don’t want to.” 

Betty still seemed to be a little bit on edge but looked pacified. Exhaling with relief she said, “I just don’t want _our_ first date to be about _idiot_ Archie.” There was something unspoken, something _more_ underneath the surface that Jughead could detect but he determined it was better not to push it for now.

“Guess that’s fair enough,” Jughead smirked, happy to see her settle back down in front of him. “What _do_ you want to talk about then?”

Her face lit up at the question, and he briefly worried that he opened up Pandora’s box. “I’m glad you asked,” smiling, she pulled out a sheet of paper. “I _actually_ have a list of first-date icebreaker questions.” 

His mouth dropped open at the delicately folded sheet she unraveled, holding the contents s they were only visible to herself. He was hoping to get the basic personal information-he had to start his article out _somewhere_ and he needed more basic information than just “Elizabeth Cooper”.

“You need a list to remind you of simple questions like what my favorite color is?” He asked, incredulous, because _who_ does that? His mind flew back to his suspicions of her-was this list Cheryl’s idea to dig up more information on him? What _more_ information could Cheryl even need, when the whole school new _everything_ already? Was Betty just trying to lure him into a false sense of security, pretend to get to know him, so she could use everything he said against him?

“Oh please, even the blind could tell that your favorite color is _black_ ,” She challenged, “These questions are deeper than that.”

“ _Tch_ , like ‘what’s my _second_ favorite color’?” He sent her a guarded look.

“Too easy,” Betty said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning over the table, “Let’s play twenty questions. I’ll go first.”

As he muttered under his breath that it was no surprise she asked, “If you won the lottery today, what’s the first thing you’d buy?”

He rolled his eyes, he couldn’t help it, “A train ticket.”

Pop Tate came by, juggling a strawberry and chocolate shake in his hands. He set them down in front of the pair, gently clapping Jughead on the back as he retreated into the kitchen.

“To where?” She questioned, intrigued by his response.

“I didn’t ask _my_ first question yet,” he refuted, “So, uh, what school did you transfer here from?”

Betty narrowed her eyes at him before letting out a nervous laugh, “I’ve been here for over a _month_ , why are you just asking me that now?” She’d heard the question too many times since she arrived in Riverdale, it was standard, typical, a good way to start a conversation. It was what most people asked when she _first_ arrived, not a fair amount of time after.

“That counts as your second question,” he stated in lieu of an actual response. 

“What? No! That’s not fair,” she exclaimed unhappily. 

“Those are the rules of the game,” he shrugged, unbudging as she took a sip of her shake, “It should’ve counted as your _third_ question but I gave you a free pass.”

“How generous,” she rolled her eyes before quickly saying “I went to Fort Roosevelt.” A brief pause as she scanned her list of questions, “Hmm…let’s see. Oh! Here’s a good one, how would you make the best burrito, in the world?”  
  
Jughead chuckled at the randomness of the question he felt an an urge to ask her where she had even thought of these questions but knew she’d charge him a turn in revenge. “Easy. Take the tortilla, throw it out, replace it with a bun. Subsititue whatever mystery meat was inside for a patty. Rice, beans, whatever meat and other useless garbage is inside-scrap it all.”

His answer caught her off guard, if the way she suddenly laughed and nearly choked on her shake was any indication. Tears formed in her eyes, a result from the combination of laugher and coughing into her elbow. “So,” she croaked out, “A cheeseburger, basically, is what you’re suggesting.”

He nodded in affirmation, unable to keep his own mirth at bay. He looked at her with a slight smile, a bit of the strawberry shake was smeared across her cheek in her coughing fit. “Oh, you have um, here,” Jughead tried to warn her awkwardly, before reaching out and gently brushing the pad of his thumb across her soft, smooth cheek to remove the imperfection.

Her breath caught in her throat at the tenderness of the touch and she blushed, “Oh, thanks.”

He felt a strange tingle, a twitch of affection in his chest that made him uncomfortable. “So why’d you leave?” He cleared his throat and the way he asked the question was a bit jarring. The mood shifted and Jughead could just picture Veronica slapping him across the back of his head for not being a little more inconspicuous.

“Shouldn’t-It feels like your questions should be more about the game than about me,”She responded eloquently. At the confused pause she continued, “You know, for the article?” His heart swopped, how could she have known- “For the game, Jughead!” She reminded him with a tilt of her head and a  bit of chastisement, “Isn’t that the only reason you guys were out there tonight?  Because Veronica is making you write about it?”

 _Oh shit_ , he’d forgotten about that. He already wasn’t too swell at this bit-he was going to have to be more focused if he was actually going to pull this off. “Maybe I had an ulterior motive,” he confessed with a smile that he prayed was at least semi-charming.

She laughed again, light, airy, gentle enough to make the angels cry, “You know, Juggie,” she reached out and placed her hand over his again, “You didn’t need, uh, some ruse about an article? I would’ve gone out with you anyway,” Betty finished her admission with a grin and warm cheeks.

She sounded so sincere, so _truthful_ , he was unprepared for it. He tried to glide over her statement by mocking, “You know, Betts, I guess I’ll just have to _assume_ you left Fort Roosevelt because…you got lower than a B on an assignment?” he guessed.

 A forced laugh, “I’ve never gotten below a B on _anything,_ ” she looked down and began to fumble with the wrapper of her straw. She twisted it between her fingers, stressing the lining between her thumb and her forefinger, “My parents got a better job opportunity here, to take over _The Register_ ,” he feels comfortable in assuming that her response was nothing if not _rehearsed_. 

Jughead opens his mouth to inquire further when the bells by the entrance of the shop tinkle. The look on Betty’s face tells him that whatever entity that just crossed into their world isn’t a good one. The rough, too-hard to be friendly, hand that clapped across his back and joustled his shoulder confirmed that theory.

 “ _Jughead Jones_ , you lucky dog!” Reggie hollered , “Or is Miss Cooper over here just _lost_?” He gave the last word of the phrase emphasis by sending Betty a wink, “’Cause I can show you where the _real_ fun is.”

“Reggie,” Jughead deadpanned before looking across his shoulder to acknowledge the other boy, “Moose. I _knew_ I felt the collective IQ of the room drop significantly.”

Betty smirked at that, which only served to upset the muscular jock and he grabbed Jugheads shoulder more firmly, “What, Betty, did you get a concussion or somethin’ at the game?”

“No Reggie, I didn’t,” she responded firmly before noting the stench of something foul surrounding the two boys, “Are you _high_?”

“No,” he answered fastly, “I’m Reggie.” And automatically, both Reggie and Moose burst out into laughter and nearly fell over. Betty shook her head, irritated, and Jughead contemplates if yelling “Fire!” would get them out of this situation.

“You know, _we_ were actually just leaving,” Betty announced, grabbing her jacket once again. She sent Jughead a pointed look as she scooted out of the booth.

“Woah woah woah, hey,” Reggie moved towards her and grabbed her wrist to try to pull her near him, “Where’s the fire Goldilocks?”

Jughead sprang out of his seat, nostrils flared as he tried to pull Reggie off of her but Moose dumbly held him back. “Leave her alone,” he growled, feeling a fire grow within him at the distressed look on Betty’s face.

The blonde smiled sweetly at him, using the hand that he wasn’t gripping to gently touch his face, “No fire here,” she whispered, looking at Reggie with bright, innocent eyes. Jughead was confused, looking frantically between the pair to evaluate situation. Reggie stepped closer to her, leaning into her touch when a darkness glossed over her eyes and, simultaneously, she dug her nails to grip the side of his face and forcefully brought her knee up to the center of his crouch.

“ _Never_ touch me again,” She hissed out when he groaned and doubled over in pain. “Let’s go,” she grabbed Jughead by his arm and tugged him gently out of the restaurant, barely giving him enough time to throw a ten dollar bill down to the counter.

“That was kind of hot,” Reggie called out after her from his position on the floor.

“Totally hot dude,” Moose agreed, appraising Betty’s retreating form.

 --

 “I’m sorry,” Betty stated after some time.

They had retreated into the park, illuminated only by the dimming streetlights. He’d been laying flat down on the slide, staring up at the sky while she sat primly on the steps next to him. At her admission, he sat up on his elbows and shifts his gaze to her.

“For what?” He asked, the only anger in his tone is directed at the fact she felt it necessary to apologize at all, “Defending yourself? Being the first person to give the bumbling moron what he deserves, in a rather bad ass way, might I add?”

She turned away from his gaze, nudging the woodchips beneath them with her feet, “I guess. That…it’s just, it’s not me. I’m not _that_ person, I’m not violent.”

It seemed to mean a lot to her, to establish that she wasn’t the wave of darkness that Jughead just witnessed. He would’ve been content to let the incident slide until he typed it up at a later date, but Betty appeared attached to the situation. 

“I don’t want you to think that’s who I am,” she admits, swallowing roughly, but she finally looks back at him.

“Then _who_ are you, Betty Cooper?” Their eyes locked, faces reflecting the yellow lamps surrounding them. She said nothing, the only sounds in their ears are the rustling noises of a summer season fading away. Bettys eyes kept flickering between Jughead’s and his lips-which look increasingly inviting and soft.

A twig snapped in the bushes behind them and Betty jolts, the moment lost. She cleared her throat and looked up to the sky, stating, “I’m someone who can name all of the stars in the sky. Or, the constellations at least.”

He stared at her as she looks up at the sky, the moon shining a paler light acorss her face, unable to fend off a smile. “I think you’re someone who’s just _lucky_ that the only constellations in the sky are Orion’s Belt and the Dippers, the ones everyone knows.”

She bristled, “Not _everyone_ , you think Moose Mason could identify the Big and Little Dipper?”

“I’d be surprised if he knew how to spell his own name, though he probably knows Orion’s belt better than any of us,” He considered.

Betty turned to him in shock, “What do you mean by that? He’s not…” she didn’t want to finish the sentence, finding Jughead’s insinuation to be too ludicrous.

 “Oh please,” Jughead snorted, “Just ask Kevin Keller!”

“Kevin is my friend!” She argued, “He would’ve told me if and Moose-oh God. No wonder why Midge kept trying to swap the salt at our table in Home Ec for sugar.” The realization hit her hard and she groaned.

He laughed at the picture of a spiteful Midge, “You should see what she did to him during gym last year. No matter the sport, even if we were just running track, she’d still find a way to pelt a ball at him.”

“Poor Kevin,” Betty sympathized.

“Poor Midge,” Jughead debated.

“Poor…both of them? Already stuck in a loveless relationship?” The blonde compromised.

“Pft,” He rolled his eyes, “Now you’re just describing my parents.”

She looked at him, relief in her eyes despite the severity of the statement, “Mine too.”

He cleared his throat, “Well, this is a bit heavy for a first date,” and he hoisted himself up onto the ground. 

“First date?” She called after him as he walked over to the swings. Coyly she asked, “You think there’ll be another?”

“Only if you want,” he smirked, holding the chains of a swing in his hand, “Hop on.”

She rolled her eyes at him but walks over and sits down on the worn leather material, “Do you think I’m five years old?”

“No, there’d be something inherently wrong with the fact that I went on a _date_ with a five year old,” He rebuffed as she grabbed hold of the chains, hands just brushing. 

“True,” she nodded, bracing herself as he moved his hands to lie flatly on her back, giving a small push. “C’mon, Juggie, that was lame,” the swing didn’t go far enough for her liking, barely elevating her off the ground.

“I was _trying_ to be gentle, Betts,” He defended himself, convincing her that he’ll only use his nickname for her to retaliate when she uses his. But the next time he pushes her harder and he steps back to gain more leverage.

She giggled, enjoying the way the cool night air breezes past her cheeks. It’s a ridiculous notion, since she’s only seventeen, but somehow it makes her feel _younger_. Every push sends her higher into the air, stomach plummeting as she ascends but the air untangles her hair and makes her feel more carefree. Giddiness rises within her and he refrained from pushing her again, worried she’d go _too_ high in the air and wind up hurting herself, but she lets herself dip into the motion, gaining more air.

“These swings are way too rusty for that,” He frowned, growing more concerned.

“Scared?” She shot back as she repeated the motion. 

Jughead realized he was, slightly unnerved, but not for the reason she was referring to, “Guess I’ll just have to catch you when you inevitably fall,” he muttered but she still heard it.

He reached a hand out to grab the chain and slow it down, but missed it by just a hair, causing her to laugh even further.  They banter for a bit when he catches it, causing the swing to halt clumsily. It dragged them both forward when stumbled she got out of the swing, she almost fell over until he shot an arm out to catch her. They were caught up in the moment, mesmerized by the _closeness_ of it all, until bright headlights stop in front of them.

“Elizabeth?” A name calls out, cutting through the air of the night.

Betty snaps her head to the sound, eyes narrowing in the light, “Mom?”

An older blonde sticks her head out of the window, “Get in the car Betty! it’s _way_ past your curfew!” 

Vaguely Jughead could make out another figure in the car, presumably her father, who looked like he wanted to stop his wife but thought better of it.

Betty was scrambling to grab her stuff and run to the car, and Jughead couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed. She almost reached the door behind the drivers side when something made her stop in her tracks. She sprinted back towards Jughead.

“I forgot,” she stated, out of breath.

“Forgot what?” He asked, looking down at her.

Instead of explaining, she leans forward and places a soft, warm kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for a great night,” she whispered quickly, darting back to the car before her mom can beep the horn.

“Betty?” He called out before she opened the door.

She turned around, “Yeah?”

“It’s green, by the way,” He said plainly, watching a smile form across her face, “My favorite color.” The color of her bright eyes, swirled with hues of blue.

He remained standing there, heart racing and feeling dumbstruck for long after the car pulls away. Jughead genuinely considered calling it all off right there, on the spot. It’d be before he wasted any _real_ time on _Operation Strawberry_ and any damning words had been written or any real damage had been done.  The decision may _even_ be worth all of the shit Veronica would give him.

\--

Jughead knew it was probably a bad idea, knew he should be heading back to his overly-comfy bed at the Pembroke but his feet continued to carry him in a different direction.

Despite his initial reaction towards the news of Archie and… Miss _Grundy_ , an idea so unrealistic it seemed equivalent to the lochness monster, he had to admit he was worried about his childhood best friend. There was no denying he’d contemplated punching Archie in the face every time he made Veronica cry, but a deep part of him still cared. After all, perhaps Betty was right, he didn’t deserve to become the main focus of Monday mornings gossip

It was well into the night when he found himself in front of Archie’s house.

He took a seat on the step of the front porch of the quaint house. Steadfastly, the boy tried to ignore the memories that came flooding to him. There were many sleepovers spent laughing, playing video games and doing anything that didn’t _involve_ sleeping. When things with his mother got worse the sleepovers became more frequent, and somehow less…fun. 

 _Parle?_ It was pirate code for talk, something the duo adopted after marathoning _The Pirates of The_ _Caribbean_. He typed out the message, ready to send it when he heard a dull thud come from the house next door. He lept to his feet, peering past the flowers and the shrubbery to see an orange mop of hair pulling himself off of the ground. He had just fallen from the second story window of the house next door and was dusting himself off.

“Archie?” He whispered, voice louder than he expected in the quiet of the night.

He identified the _wrong_ varsity-jacket wearing ginger and corrected himself with a louder, shocked voice, “ _Jason Blossom_?”

Jason nodded at him with a boyish grin and put a single finger over his own mouth to motion for Jughead to simmer his voice. “What’s up man?” He clapped the beanie-clad boy on the back as he tried to walk softly to the pavement.

They’ve never interacted before but Jason was already treating him with a tone of familiarity. It was unsettling, really. “Dude, what are you doing here?” Jughead questioned, confused. Was this some weird dream?

“Same thing as you bro,” The older smiled at him, glancing briefly out of the window Jughead assumed he climbed out of.

As Jason walked away, Jughead followed his gaze to the window, unsure of what that comment meant. Had he also been trying to talk to Archie? Did he find out about Grundy, too? Oh god, were they both with Miss Grundy-

His thoughts were halted by what, or rather _who_ he found in the window, staring down at him with unmasked confusion. It was a girl with pale skin, pin straight blonde hair and shining green eyes. The light in her room was dim, just bright enough for Jughead to make out her purple sweater and…very _obvious_ , very showing, very pregnant stomach.

“What the hell,” he whispered to himself, certain now more than ever that he and Jason were _not_ caught on the dividing property line for the same reason.

The mysterious blonde had a familiar look about her, something he couldn’t quite place. They were both maintaining eye contact, neither one blinking until she abruptly shut her curtains and turned off her bedroom light. He’d known the house next to Archie’s was up for sale, it had been for a few years, his parents used to joke about _one_ day being able to own it. He didn’t know someone had bought it so it must’ve been a fairly recent purchase

He glanced up at the other window on the side of the house, the only one that had a light on. It was right across from Archie’s, and there was another blonde sitting perched in the window with her phone in her hand. Her blonde hair, curled and shorter than the other girls was falling loosely at her shoulders. Jughead recognized _her_ immediately, it was Betty.

Which must mean that _this_ house was the Coopers. And that…girl in the other window, was who? She was far too young to be her mother and they looked too alike to be anything but sisters. _Oh God_ , her sister was _pregnant_ , had been for some months by the look of it. _Is that why they moved here? Not because of some “job opportunity”?_ Jughead narrowed his eyes, glancing between the windows of the two blondes. He couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed, although she hadn’t lied to him outright.

Furthering his worries was the fact that the boy he’d originally been searching for was sitting in the window of his room, phone in hand with a position mirrored to Betty’s. Betty and Archie were evidently texting each other, glancing from their phones to each other in an intimate conversation. They seemed deeply enraptured by whatever they were saying together, not noticing how Jason scurried away or how Jughead unashamedly stared at them.

Jughead cursed himself for the way his heart hurt at the sight-he should have known better. He _did_ know better but he let the benefit of the doubt get to him and win him over. He nearly called it all off and for what? Because a pretty girl spared him a second glance? The boy shook his head and began to walk away, invisible to the couple. It was nothing but a game to Betty, he determined, and when she was through with him she could go back to Archie. 

“Back to square one,” he mumbled to himself, wondering when he’d stop letting himself believe in fairytales.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ????? not entirely sure if I love how this chapter turned out??? also not sure how two whole weeks passed before I updated??? where is summer going??? is this Waiting for Godot because I'm having an existential crisis
> 
> anyway you can find me on tumblr @ aswellingstorm.tumblr.com (i just figured out how to turn asks on lolol)
> 
> any feedback is appreciated! :)


	5. Sticks and Stones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let them drive us underground, I don't care how far. You can set my broken bones and I know CPR."

“I mean, it’s good but it just…needs an _edge_ ,” Jughead sighed, lost in thought as he stretched back in his chair.

He was reviewing Ethels article, she’d taken over writing about the game, in the office of The Blue and Gold. Jughead was _tired_ and Veronica demanded that he and Ethel skip second period to convene in the office. He rubbed under his eyes and stifled a yawn. Of course the queen in question was late, so they decided to kill time by proofreading each others work. 

“It’s an article about football, there _is_ no edge,” Ethel complained quietly. 

He understood her point, really he did, but he also knew she was a better writer than this. “Maybe not to you or me, but some emotionally deprived morons out there actually _like_ football. It’s exciting to them so your article should have…a little excitement? It needs more than just talking about the score. More color, I guess…” 

“More _edge_?” She finished with a bashful smile. “I’ll try.” 

He smiled back at Ethel and handed her work back. Their hands brushed slightly, sending goosebumps down the arm of only one person. 

“If Ethel’s writing were to take the form of a shape, it’d be a circle,” Veronica’s voice rang out as she strutted into the office. Her black hair held loose waves, bouncing slightly with every step she took. She held up her immaculate façade, despite looking like she had rushed to the office. “Really, sweetie,” she was wearing glasses today and trying to sound as nice as possible, “Edge. You need one, I can’t say it enough.” 

Ethel was looking more embarrassed now, face flushing red as she turned her gaze down. Jughead shook his head and silently mouthed _Ignore her_. “So what’s eating at Miss Veronica Lodge today?” he asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from Ethel, for which the latter looked intensely grateful.

“ _You_ are,” Veronica shot back in a significantly _less_ nice tone. She whipped out her phone, unlocked it quickly and dialed out a number in rapid succession.

Within seconds, Jughead’s phone went off, flashing a picture of the two of them at Pop’s. On the day of the picture in question, Archie had actually taken the picture. It was when Veronica first moved to Riverdale and was still trying to gain her bearings-long before she developed feelings for the jock. In the picture Jughead was looking exasperated with her, while she was busy laughing at his reaction. If he could recall correctly, she’d made some ridiculous comment about how the world needed a  musical version of _The Breakfast Club_ \- and the rest was history.

He wasn’t allowed time to smile fondly at the memory because Veronica peered over at him, acknowledging his phone going off. “How _interesting_ ,” she sneered, abruptly hanging up the call. Next, Jughead’s phone was lighting up with gibberish, key-smash text messages from her, one after the other in a quick fire.

 

“Huh. So your phone _does_ work,” she crossed her arms, “Could’ve fooled me, seeing as you didn’t _answer it_ all weekend.”

“It was dead!” he argued, raising his hands defensively. “I only just started charging it,” he gesutured to the charging cable coming out of his computer. 

“Then where the hell were you? You never came home, my mom was worried sick!” From the tone of her voice, it was clear that Mrs. Lodge wasn’t the only one who had been concerned. 

“We agreed that I’d stay at Sunnyside! Your mom would just have to sign a few papers for show and then I’d be out of _both_ of your deep conditioned hai-” 

“No,” Veronica cut him off harshly, “ _You_ agreed with yourself on that one. I told you that my mom _wants_ you home, every night. Even if it’s at two in the morning-she agreed to be your volunteer guardian Jughead. So you _wouldn’t_ have to go through the steaming pile of bullshit known as the foster care system? Right? Isn’t that how you so lovingly put it?” 

He rolled his eyes, “No one would know if-" 

“She doesn’t-I don’t, _we_ don’t care who knows, Jughead. _We_ would know, and that’s enough. She’s putting her neck on the line here, to take care of you and make sure you’re safe!” She ranted on, eyes wide and stressed as if she couldn’t believe this was something she had to _explain_ to the boy.

 “Right, forgot her precious reputation was on the line here,” He mumbled sarcastically.

“Don’t-don’t do that,” She looked dangerously close to slapping him, with her eyes narrowed and her hands flexing irritatedly. “She _cares_ about you Jughead. We both do, obviously,” she rolled her eyes, “So stop being the world’s _rudest_ houseguest and let us, okay?”

“Fine,” he relented, stomach twisting uncomfortably. He was grateful that the Lodge’s had even offered him a place to say, using the drawstings of their money bags to convince both Weatherbee and Sheriff Keller that it’d be a good fit. _The best solution possible_ , Hermiones voice rang in his head, _to avoid one of the brightest students from falling into the foster care system._  

It was his own fault, really. When Weatherbee called him into his office to demand that FP show up to a parent teacher conference, Jughead should’ve just made up some excuse. That his father was away on business or-or _something_. But no one would have believed that _FP Jones_ , local alcoholic and addicted to whatever was running on the streets, had a job, much less was sent away on business for said job.

He told his dad about it but still didn’t believe him when he said he’d _show up_ for the meeting. Jughead figured the worst that would happen is he’d blow it off in a drunken stupor, Weatherbee would eventually forget about it until next marking period and the cycle would repeat itself. His _real_ error was in telling his father that he’d been doing well in school and Weatherbee wanted to discuss his potential.

As long as Jughead lived, he may never forget the tears that formed in his fathers glossed over eyes at the news. He put a heavy arm over Jugheads shoulders, the  ghosting weight of it present even today, and choked out about how proud of _his son_ he was.

The unfortunate reality maintained that _the worst_ that FP could do was actually show up to the meeting--and _show up_ he did. Weatherbee must’ve known, because Sheriff Keller had the man in handcuffs just five minutes after he walked through the doors of Riverdale High.

When Jughead bursted through the doors of the police station to demand why his father had been arrested, his father’s only excuse was that by the time he remembered about the meeting he was already about four beers in. So naturally, he had to shoot up some Jingle Jangle to sober himself up. And as for the tiny sealed bags of Jingle Jangle in his jacket pocket-those _weren’t_ for him to sell Jughead, no, , of course not, they were just _back up_ if the first batch hadn’t sobered him up enough.

As it turns out, being publicly drunk is not a crime. He couldn’t be charged with that, but having illegal drugs in his system and five bags out it _out_ of his system was right in the playbook of the War on Drugs. Being caught in that state on school grounds was even _worse_ , and his charges were doubled.

Out of what Jughead suspected was sheer pity after the incident with his mother, Sheriff Keller offered FP a deal: no jail time as long as he consented to admitting himself to a rehab center near Albany for a minimum of thirty days.

This had left Jughead on his own, which was an extreme faux-pas for the child welfare community. Weatherbee informed the boy he called his grandparents but Jughead already knew that they’d let any matter concerning him go right to voicemail. In lieu of a family member being able to take him in, Jughead was lined up for a nice little family on the Southside of town to take care of him. 

Relaying this news to Veronica and Ethel had resulted in the shrillest of protests from the former. She had ranted and raved, demanding a better solution to present itself which is when Hermione Lodge walked through the door like a gift from God, all wrapped up in a Gucci-scented bow.

As one might anticipate, both Veronica and Hermione were ideal hosts. They made up a guest room for him at the Pembrooke, set a plate at every meal and invited him to family dinner—a fun event where Hiram picked the most expensive restaurant to treat everyone to. It was so _nice_ , but Jughead was more than capable of taking care of himself in his dads trailer at Sunnyside-he’d been doing such for quite some time. A large part of him wanted to make that argument again but after just one glance of the menacing look on Veronicas face he knew he was destined to lose that battle.

Alternatively, he opted to appease her instead, “So, uh, I found out some _interesting_ information for _OS_.”

“What’s OS?” As she played dumb, she cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Don’t make me say it,” He huffed.

“Say what?” 

“ _Operation Strawberry,”_ He was too tired to feed into her game and chose to ignore the victorious smirk on her face.

“That reminds me,” she sighed, “You’re doing a _horrid_ job.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He was offended—he gathered so much information on Friday night. Nervously, he wondered if somehow all of Veronica’s rambling about having a sixth sense was actually _true_ and she was able to read his mind and realize how he’d nearly caught feelings for the blonde haired beauty and given up.

“You straight up _ignored her_ today!” Veronica chastised as Ethel grinned smugly. “She tried to wave at you in the hallway and you just looked away—it was horrible. It was like-like spilling red lipstick in a white _Valantino_ bag, you should have seen the look on her face! And when Kevin tried to ask her about her date in Home Ec she just changed the subject.”

 Jughead grimaced. Veronica was right-he knew it’d been a little harsh by the way his stomach plummeted immediately after giving her the cold shoulder. It was stupid of him to do-she didn’t know what _he_ knew but he was still trying to lick his wounds. Betty’s lack of honesty and probable romance with Archie was more painful than he’d like to admit. A small, insane part of him almost thought that maybe, crazily, they could have been something-something _real_.

 “Archie’s having an affair with Grundy,” Jughead blurted to keep her off the trail.

A deafening pause fell across the room. Veronica’s eyes widened in a way that could have almost been humorous if not for the severity of the situation.

“Miss or Misses?” Ethel asked almost immediately and Jughead scoffed.

“Miss,” He rolled his eyes at the insinuation that Archie would bang the elderly woman-although he wasn’t quite sure what his former best friend was capable of anymore.

There was a silence. Deafening, slow and all-too still. Ethel stared at him, mouth agape in shock. Jughead could practically see the wheels turn in Veronica’s head as she processed the information.  Then in a motion that was far too fast, the heiress burst into a cackling bout of laughter.

Jughead and Ethel exchanged a weary look as Veronica tired herself out with laughter. A few students from the hallway turned to leer at her, the Blossom bombshell herself muttered _freak_ as she strutted past. Nothin stopped Veronica and her seemingly endless trail of laughter until she needed to stop for air. 

“Oh Jughead,” she wheezed, “This is _perfect._ ”

He snorted, “And why is that?”

“This just became so much bigger than Betty freakin’ Cooper,” She said giddily, “We can take down _Archie Andrews_ —we just need solid proof to confirm it.”

“I’m not sure-“

“I want you to drop _Operation Strawberry_ ,” she demanded. Truthfully, Veronica had grown to be a bit fond of Betty. There was an alluring air about her, a bit of fire under the typical girl-next-door façade that Veronica’s icy personality could appreciate.  “At least until we get _this_ out. Because, yeah Betty Cooper is a big deal with her perfect new girl charm, but she’s actually kind of _nice_ -“

“She also has a… _thing_ with Archie,” It was painful for him to admit and he choked on the word. He thought getting it out there, in the open, and off of his chest might make him feel better but it didn’t, it only made it more real.

All of the elatedness was sapped out of Veronica instantly. She deflated on the spot, a frown pulling at her lips as she put a hand on her hip, “How do you know _that_? Did the date go that poorly?”

“No!” He was too quick to deny it and he reddened, “She told me all of the basic stuff- like you asked. She went to Fort Roosevelt, her favorite color is pink, she never learned how to ride a bike because- she likes-whatever, never mind whatever. Doesn’t matter. After I tried to go to Archie’s house-you know, talk to him about the Grundy thing, and there she was. Next door. Sitting in the windowsill talking to him. It seemed pretty deep.”

Ethel began typing on her computer, directing her attention to the screen while Veronica fumed. “That’s just so, interesting, because she told me she couldn’t _stand him_. But now she wants to play Romeo and Juliet with him and make heart eyes at the boy next door? You know what?-”

“That’s definitely not how Romeo and Juliet went down, Ronnie,” he tried to correct her.

“ _Fuck_ her. Fuck Betty Cooper. We’re gonna take them down together, in the same article. We’re going to expose this whole _school._ ”

“I don’t know where to even start it off,” He tried to argue. 

“Maybe with the fact that she didn’t _go_ to Fort Roosevelt,” Ethel peaked up at them from over the computer monitor. “Look.”

Jughead and Veronica were over her shoulder in a minute. “I searched for ‘Elizabeth Cooper, Fort Roosevelt, she’s smart kinda so she would have made the honor roll and most schools publish which students made the cut online,” Ethel explained, pointing to the monitor. 

“She’s more than _kinda_ smart, Ethel,” he corrected, looking embarrassed at the incredulous looks he received from his friends in response to the comment.

Ethel cleared her throat, “So when nothing came up I until I just googled ‘Elizabeth Cooper’ and got a hit for Our Children of Quiet Mercy, a coed private catholic school.” She clicked on a picture of a dismal, solemn looking building with the title of the school carved in stone on top of it. “She made _high_ honor roll there. And she was a cheerleader there too.” Next she hit a button and a picture of Betty in a red and blue cheerleading uniform popped up. It was far more modest than her Riverdale uniform, she was wearing underarmor and the skirt nearly reached her knees. 

It was a clipping from a newspaper titled, “CHILDREN OF QUIET MERCY HOLD NO MERCY OVER FORT ROOSEVELT COUGARS-SWEEPING STATE CHAMPIONSHIPS” Betty was smiling brightly, embraced by a fellow cheerleader at the hip. What really caught Jughead’s eye was the other girl in the picture, with long blonde hair dampened by apparent rainfall. He recognized her as the girl in the window of Betty’s house and in this picture she was embracing a football player, tall, dark and handsome. Underneath the photo read “ **Pictured (from left to right): Elizabeth Cooper, Sabrina Spellman, Polly Cooper and Chuck Clayton celebrating the schools fifth annual win.** ”

Breathlessly, Jughead put a hand on Ethel’s shoulder, “Ethel, you’re a god damn genius.”

\--

It didn’t make _any_ sense. Had Jughead changed his mind? Was he just trying to be polite on the date? Did he just want to get it over with so he could go back to pretending she didn’t exist? Or did he actually, truly like her, but was scared off by her devil of a mother? Did she misread the entire situation, or—

“Stop spiraling,” Kevin commanded, putting his hands on either side of her face gently. 

Nothing made sense, because despite thinking about Jughead all weekend (although, admittiedly, that was nothing new) replaying their date on repeat and eagerly awaiting getting to see him _again_ Betty was crushed. He wanted nothing to do with her, which he made obvious by the fact that he only glared at her when she tried to greet him. She was more than familiar with him ignoring her, but this was _different_. He exuded some type of anger that made her stomach clench.

“I just don’t get it Kev,” she frowned. The cool, ignorably clammy, feeling of his fingers on her face calmed her a bit. “What did I do wrong?” 

“Go ask him yourself,” he said, nodding to the boy who began to walk towards them.

The hallway was pretty empty, save for a few wandering students. Ethel and Veronica flanked his side almost protectively.

 “Oh no,” Betty muttered, “I’m not ready to face rejection-I need at least forty-eight hours in advance to prepare. Just act cool,” she said, turning away from the trio and holding a hand to the side of her face to block her periphels.

“Are you really trying to hide?” He asked, surprised, “You know they can still see you right?”

“Hey Jughead!” A deep voice rang out and Betty’s stomach swooped at the sound. This was a _bad_ sign. She looked up to see Reggie and Moose-because god forbid they ever leave each others side, approaching from the opposite end of the hallway.

Veronica whispered something in Jugheads ear, earning a loud sigh from him. It was a tired game, the constant chase between Jughead and Reggie. He did his best to ignore the jock, but he spoke once again,

“Howzit fair that you get _both_ new girls?” He called out, “Like, are puny ass white dudes the new _thing_ for ladies?” 

“What are you talking about Reggie?” Jughead called back, neglecting how Ethel tugged his arm and asked him what he thought he was doing.

“It’s not right you get to take Betty home at night but get to walk in with Veronica Lodge this morning,” He taunted, “I mean what kind of kinky shit is that?”

Betty’s heart dropped. _Did_ Jughead come to school with veronica this morning? Why would he? I mean, their parents just gould have arranged a carpool? Or was it something more? Did him going out on a date with her only make him realize his feelings for Veronica? Even after she told him about her fear of bikes-

“Seems like you’re a little _too_ lucky,” Reggie sneered as he approached.

“Listen scumbag-” Veronica snapped her attention to the bulky jock, pointing her index finger at him threateningly.

Reggie grabbed her wrist and pulled it downwards, earning a gasp from the girl. “Stay out of this _Mamacita_.” The words were spoken harshly at a lower decibel and followed by Reggie licking his lips tauntingly.

“Get your hands off of her,” Jughead growled-it was a messed up situation, Betty knew that _someone_ should be sticking up for Veronica but her stomach still clenched in jealousy.

The hallway was filled with an uneasy air, tension seeping through the air. Kevin watched, enthralled and Betty knew him well enough to assume he was wishing for a bucket of popcorn right about now. 

“What’s wrong? Don’t like to share?” Moose taunted, looking to Reggie for approval and was rewarded with a snide smile.

“Listen dipshit,” Reggie turned to Jughead, who now looked incredibly small in comparison to the towering duo, “I’ve been real nice to ya-” Jughead laughed humorlessly. If _this_ was Reggie’s definition of nice, he’d hated to see the douchebag be _mean._ In response, Reggie gripped  the edges of the collar of Jughead’s jean jacket, “I’ve been letting you off the hook this year because of your _mother_ but the free ride’s over pal. Stay _out_ of my way,” he spat out menacingly, pushing Jughead backwards and turning to walk away with Moose.

Betty’s face contorted in confusion and Veronica looked red with anger, “Oh _hell_ no-”

But the Lodge’s rage was miniscule, too small to be seen under the most powerful of microscopes, in comparison to Jughead’s. Betty watched in amazement, swirled with hints of worry and fear, at Jughead’s seething form. He was red in the face with a clenched jaw.

“Hey Reggie, you forgot something!” Jughead called out to grab the jock’s attention.  He whipped around instantly, rather dumbly as well, and **_THWACK_** -Betty supposed Jughead’s fist must’ve been clenched too if the way he had just punched Reggie was any indication.

Moose was stock still, the perfect picture of _shocked,_ while Reggie cradled the left side of his face. It took him no longer than a few seconds to react before he retaliated. Moose grabbed Jughead by his shoulders  to prevent him from swinging again as Reggie punched forward, returning the punch to the face.

Veronica let out a shrill scream as she and Ethel helplessly tried to pull Reggie away from Jughead but he was manic-a wild animal outraged- and kept pummeling Jughead anywhere he could reach.

Jughead responded by attempting to wiggle his body out of Moose’s grasp, something that only served to delight the jock if the hardness Jughead could feel against his leg was any indication. He was disgusted and wanted to vomit-but settled for the next best thing: spitting the blood that had pooled in his mouth at Reggie.

The bold move had only outraged him further, he shoved Veronica and Ethel to the side and Jughead took the free moment to start kicking-hoping to hit Reggie’s chest. It was a fruitless effort and  Reggie was back in his face in a mere matter of seconds ready to deliver the next blow.

Out of options and tired of fighting against the both of them, Jughead resolved to brace himself for the next hit. He heard the tell-tale sign of skin on skin contact, but when he looked up he was surprised to find there was no Reggie lurking over him-much rather there was Betty _freaking_ Cooper and maybe he was delusional from the blows delivered to his head-but he could have sworn she was a heroine with a cape flowing behind her.

With a surprising amount of strength she had shoved Reggie, nearly twice her size, off of Jughead and onto the floor. She delivered yet another solid, swift and so _ruthless_ kick to his crotch before grabbing his face with her nails.

Through his increasingly blurry vision, he could see the look of rage on Betty’s face as she spat out, “Don’t you ever _learn_?” He’d never seen her like _this_ , it was similar to how she reacted to them at the diner but so much more volatile. There was an entirely different aura surrounding her-much darker and chilling.

 

Reggie looked back up at her in terror, “What the fuck? You’re fucking crazy-” Moose released Jughead to come to Reggie’s aid, causing the black haired boy to stumble backwards and nearly fall over if it weren’t for Veronica and Ethel offering immediate support.

Moose roughly pulled her away from him when a booming voice echoed down the hallway-“What the hell is going on?” Archie appeared like a flame, running towards them and looking ready to punch Moose. He shoved the jock off of Betty before sparing a glance at Jughead’s beat up form and then looking back to the two that started it all. 

“What the hell guys? We have a game on Thursday, you know coach is going to bench you guys now!” He demanded roughly.

“Thanks for the concern _pal_ ,” Jughead called out bitterly as Veronica and Ethel shook their heads in disappointment at Archie. Of course, ever loyal Archie, only cared about the big game.

The ginger ignored them before whispering to Betty, just loudly enough for the holy trinity to overhear, “Are you _trying_ to get in trouble again?”

Another voice entered the hallway, snapping all of them out of their separate trains of thought-“Would anyone care to explain what’s going on in _my_ hallway?” The firm, unwavering, authoritative voice belonged to none other than Principle Weatherbee. He looked overtly disappointed in the scene before him-two of his brightest students Jughead and Betty, engaged in physical altercations with his best athletes.

 --

“I don’t think you understand how   _thin_ the ice your skating on is, Mr. Jones,”  Weatherbee sighed. He looked exasperated and tired-having run through the accounts of all the other students- starting with Betty, winding down to even Ethel and now concluding with him.

“Excuse me? He’s the one who beat the shi-he’s the one who beat _me_ up!” Jughead fought back, surprised.

 “But you’re the one who started it, Mr. Jones, you threw the first punch, did you not?” The olde man looked up at him with exhausted eyes.

“I-I guess,” he deflated, “But he threatened me-”

“Mr. Mantle isn’t off the hook either, you’ll be seeing each other in dentention for the rest of the week,” He concluded, folding his hands and leaning back in his chair.

“Pft, great. Can’t wait. 

Weatherbee raised an eyebrow, “The school has been generous to you, Mr. Jones. Overly accommodating, especially with your recent living situation. Your insolence will not be tolerated any further.” His voice was laced with a threat that, despite the events of the day, still made Jughead’s blood boil.

“Are we done here?” He huffed out impatiently and when Weatherbee nodded quickly, Jughead made quick work of grabbing his belongings.

“Thin ice!” The principle called out as Jughead exited the office and walked into the hallway.

School had ended half of an hour ago and Jughead let out a sigh of relief at the empty hallway-well, nearly empty. Because, of couse, Betty was still there, sitting on the bench at the opposite end of the hallway. At the sound of his footsteps, she looked up at him. Despite the severity of the situation and the beaten down look on his face he could swear that he still saw the twinkle of eagerness that always seemed to light across her features when she saw him.

She walked to him with a bounce in her step, face drawn in concern and he noticed she’d changed into her Vixens uniform. Her ponytail flitted up and down and he noticed there were a few bruises littered across her toned arms-where Moose must’ve grabbed her.

The black and purple splotches contrasted sharply with her even skin-it made Jughead want to beat the shit out of Moose for not the first time today. As Betty approached him, she wordlessly grabbed his hand and gently pulled him down the hallway.

Part of him wanted to ask her where she was leading him, but another part of him really didn’t care-she could be taking him to some back alley to mutilate him and at this point in the day-he didn’t really give a shit if that was the case.

Instead she pulled him in front of the nurses office, the door was shut and the lights were off a telltale sign that Nurse Nancy was long gone.

“Nurse Nancy isn’t ever here, when during the school day when she’s _supposed_ to be, and even when she is here, she’s drunk off her ass and popping valium,” Jughead scoffed.

Betty slipped a bobby pin out of her hair and quickly unfolded it, shoving it into the locked knob and twisting it until the door gave way. “Guess she won’t mind us stopping by then,” Betty said breezily.

He was flabbergasted at her antics-or he would’ve been, at least. If his entire face didn’t feel swollen and his head would just stop _throbbing_. He let her pull him to the bright-orange leather futon in the corner of the room by the cabinets. She turned on the lights and began scouring around the supplies as if she owned the place. Her brazen attitude left a smile of amusement on Jugheads face.

She handed him an icepack for his right eye, the most swollen area of his face, before returning with cotton swabs, bandaids, anti-septic, Neosporin and Advil.

Betty sat next to him on his lefthand side and began applying the antiseptic to some of the smaller cuts on his face. It burned a bit but it was nothing too discomforting for him. He felt awkward, sitting there helplessly as Betty took care of him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been taken care of by someone. He remembered taking care of JB, his mother, his father during his drunken nights. But any doubts of sickness he suffered through went unnoticed by his parents and Jellybean couldn’t even cook him chicken noodle soup-instead she drew him a picture of herself cooking it for him. He still kept it hanging in his room in the trailer. 

Any scrapes or scratches Jughead patched up himself too. Having someone else do it for him felt bizarre and left him with a burning feeling other than the one plaguing his face. He wanted to say something, make a comment to distract from the situation but he kept drawing blanks.

It was Betty who broke the silence, “So…” she trailed off and he supposed she felt a bit awkward too, a fact that made him feel a little _less_ awkward in return. “You and Veronica?”

He turned his head to her, bringing up his gaze from his shoes that he was so heavily fixated upon, confusion running across his face. She wouldn’t look at him, busying herself with the antiseptic spray and a cotton swab. He didn’t understand what she meant by the question until _oh_ , suddenly it clicked.

“I-uh, we’re just best friends,” He supplied and Betty raised a brow. She swiped the anti-septic across the cut on his lip and he hissed out in pain. A part of him wondered if her timing was truly _that_ impeccable.

“I see,” she said, unimpressed and guiding his hand to remove the icepack from the bruises across his eye. 

He looked at her tenderly, she was so intent on cleaning every scrape and bruise on his face. She was focused, clinical, and even rather calm, completely shedding her aggressive demeanor from earlier that day. Jughead prayed that underneath all of the bruises, she wouldn’t be able to see him blush.

“I’m, um, living with her. That’s why Reggie made that comment, if that’s what you’re wondering,” He added quickly. She made quick work of cleaning the bruises over his eye. She had a gentle but firm touch, applying just the right amount of pressure. Jughead closed his eyes, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable as she leaned over him to tend his wounds better. 

“Oh,” she said softly and he could hear the curiosity in her voice. Based on the barrage of questions she had for him on their first date, he could only imagine the slew of questions running through her brain right now. Betty exercised complete control and kept them at bay for the moment, for which Jughead was intensely grateful.

“Yeah, sensitive situation,” He provided lamely as she uncapped the Neosporin and began light brushing it across the cuts.

Jughead opened his eyes just as she was applying the slightest bit to the cut on his lip and their eyes met. Her finger lingered, hovering just over his lips  as her soft green eyes met with his hardened ones. She felt a blush creeping across her face and abruptly turned her attention to the small butterfly bandaids, littering them across Jugheads face for the appropriate cuts. 

Gingerly, he reapplied the ice pack a soft smile pulling on his lips. When she was satisified with her work and decided that she had done all she could do with him for the time being, she handed him the Advil and a cup of water, which he downed with ease.

She began to pack up the supplies, getting up to put the items away and, although she was still only a few feet away, Jughead felt her absence. He missed the warmth of her fingers and the scent of her vanilla perfume flooding his senses. Betty had already done so much for him, she was most likely missing practice and incurring the wrath of one Cheryl Blossom, but he was still sitting on the cot, longing for something more. He wasn’t sure what it was, what more Betty could give him until she sat back down next to him, angling her body towards him. 

She must’ve noticed something was off with him, because she extended her hand to lift his chin up. Making their eyes connect, she spoke softly and gently to comfort him, “Hey, it’s okay Jughead, it’s _okay_.”

Without realizing it, he swayed forward, towards Betty-and she was ready for him. Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Their chests were pulled together and his head was turned over her shoulder and she pulled them closer. Betty was everywhere, her warm embrace soothing him and allowing him to let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been _hugged_. Veronica, Ethel, his friends knew he was averse to most touch and forms of physical affection. His father never attempted to, not even when things in their family were less turbulent—upon critical thought, the last time he could recall being hugged like this, was when he hugged Jellybean goodbye before his grandparents took her away to Toledo. 

It felt foreign, new and so… _nice_. He pushed the memory of his painful goodbye into the recesses of his mind, focusing instead on Betty’s scent. He let his eyes close to enjoy the moment as he felt her hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

He thought he heard a faint click in the back of his mind, but pushed it aside, focusing on hugging Betty back. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that until he heard someone clearing their voice and the two jumped back from each other to look at it’s source-Veronica. 

The raven haired girl looked surprised, eyebrows raised in interested in the sight before her. “Jughead. My mom’s here to take us home,” she announced before beginning to step out of the doorframe, expecting Jughead to follow.

“I have to go,” He resounded dully to Betty, almost disappointed.

She offered him a slight smile, “I figured.”

He grabbed his book bag and got up-a bit too quickly and it had his head spin a little. Betty was looking down, hands clasped and resting on her lap, foot tapping nervously on the floor.

In a bold move, he swept down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek-much how she did to him on their first date. “Thanks Betts,” he said, a genuine smile on his face as she looked up at him with surprise and delight. 

Before she could respond further, he darted out of the room where Veronica was already striding away.

“Remember when,” she began sharply, “One time when Ethel tried to hug you and you told her if she moved even an _inch_ closer to you, she better have her tombstone already picked out?” 

He chuckled at the memory, “Betty’s different.” The sentiment slipped out, surprising both of them and in that instant they both knew: Jughead Jones had it _bad_ for Betty Cooper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so so sorry for the delay in this chapter. Junior year is reaaaaally kicking my ass here, but I promise this story isn't dead! Thank you so much for all of the comments + love for this story. Thank you for not giving up on this story, I'm hoping to manage my time better so I can update more frequently!
> 
> as always you can follow my tumblr (ngl asking me about updates does actually motivate me more lololol) @ aswellingstorm.tumblr.com!


	6. For the Record

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -taps mic- hello? anyone still here and interested despite the fact i update in extremely irregular ways?

If you asked any layperson when the year began, they’d say January. Maybe a school student would believe it’s September. But for Jughead, the year began and ended on November 10th.

As of last year, all time was relative to November 10th. He kept time by thinking in similar patterns, marking events by their distance from the date. His first day back at school was a week after November 10th, his dentist appointment was sixth months after November 10th, his first day of junior year was ten months after November 10th… the pattern continued. 

And, soon enough, he was going to come full circle.

“Hello,” Veronica snapped in front of his face, causing him to flinch backwards, “Earth to Jughead!”

He sent her a menacing glare as they sat across from each other in the office of the Blue and Gold, “Can you not do that?" 

“Sorry,” she most certaintly was _not_ , if the faux-pout on her face was any indication, “Did you even hear a word I just said?”

 “Probably not,” he grumbled passively,“I’ve blacklisted your common topics of conversation, like Prada or… _Gucci_ or Archie Andrews from my mind so anytime you start talking about them it just sounds like white noise.” 

He heard Ethel giggle behind him and he turned his head to send her an appreciative stare. She covered her mouth when she laughed, a small blush creeping up her neck.

Veronica narrowed her eyes at him, finding far less humor in his commentary than Ethel. She all but threw a camera across the wooden table at Jughead, “ _Fine_. Then, you know what to do.” 

Jughead shifted his gaze between Veronica and the camera, purposely making no moves to touch the equipment as if it were _dirty_. “Me? No way in hell.” 

“Why not?” She huffed, fingers tapping impatiently against her olive skin. 

It was a sunny day outside, allowing for some light to filter into the long windows of the office. Unusually warm for such a late autumn day, most students were ignoring the school dress code and wearing shorts. 

“Because _I’m_ not writing the article, it’s social suicide,” He scoffed.

“ _I_ can’t write it!” She insisted, “Everyone’s going to think I’m just the crazy ex-girlfriend.”

“Well I can’t either!” He rolled his eyes, annoyed that Veronica was still pressing the whole Grundy issue, “I promised Betty I wouldn’t tell anyone!" 

“So?” Ethel snorted. She normally didn’t involve herself in Jughead and Veronica’s bickering, so they turned to her with surprise a lit in their eyes.

“Yeah,” Veronica agreed after a pause, looking to Jughead with a shit-eating grin and a raised brow, “So _what,_ Jughead?” 

He rolled his eyes, “Betty’s on the path of nobility here—she thinks everything is all sunshine and rainbows. She practically begged me not to tell anyone on our _date_ so if I write an article about it, she’ll never look at me again.”

Ethel sucked in a breath as if to say _That’s all it’d take_? But averted her gaze. 

“I could do it,” she said meekly. 

“Ethel!” Veronica was exasperated, more offended at the offer to help than actually grateful, “We _talked_ about this. It needs to be hard hitting, we’re exposing the perfect, all-American boy! We’re tearing down _Archie_ _Andrews_ , shedding light on an affair! You couldn’t even write about a football game—” 

“Hey,” Jughead interrupted her with a stern and thick voice, “That’s enough.”

Ethel kept her head ducked down, visibly upset with Veronica’s words. The bell rang, cutting sharply through the tense air of the room and Ethels head snapped up. “It’s fine, Veronica, I get it.”

She grabbed her belongings as Jughead shook his head at Veronica disapprovingly. Silently she mouthed “ _What?_ ” at him and he slid the camera back to her.  
“Write it yourself.” 

\--

 “It’s not bad, you know,” Jughead commented hoping to sound casual. The hallway felt a little quiet today, without Veronica by their side to excitedly ramble on about whatever the pressing matter of the day was.

There was a weird, subtle tension between them. It had been growing in its awkwardness since the school year started. The air between them felt disjointed in a way that made something itch under Jugheads skin. Ethel was one of the few people who hadn’t treated him differently after _November 10 th_. 

“What?” Her voice was sharp, awkward because he caught her off guard. She turned her head to them as they maneuvered down the main hallway.

“Your writing,” He clarified, shifting his head to meet her gaze with a soft smile. 

Unsure of how to react, she opted for forcing out a smile and a laugh, “Jug, it’s fine, you don’t have to lie. I know I’m not the greatest-I’m not _you_ or _Veronica-_ And I’m fine with that, really! I never wanted to be a writer or anything, so it’s totally fine. You know I only started writing for _The Blue and Gold_ to help you guys out, but really it’s fine-”

 Jughead paused in his step, slightly moving towards the side of the hallway so they were out of the way. “Hey,” he said seriously, words cutting off her ramble. Her pale face was flushed and, even if she wouldn’t verbalize it, her face clearly communicated that it wasn’t _fine_. 

Jughead had a tough skin and he’d be dammed if any of _Veronica Lodge’s_ signature icy comments ever had a profound effect on him. He wasn’t oozing self-confidence, not by any means. Hell, he was constantly convinced the entire world was pitted against him, determined to drag him further down the totem pole. Well, maybe not the entire world. Maybe just _one_ girl-but that was beside the point. For what he lacked in external confidence, he made up for in his writing. He knew he was a shit son, friend, _brother_ but he also knew he was a damn good writer. That was something no one could ever take away from him. 

But Ethel didn’t have a thick skin. She was relatively sheltered by two parents who could at least love each other enough to hold off on divorcing until she graduated high school. She was emotional. She took Cheryl’s comments harder than the rest of them and was easily defeated. She had less self confidence than him, because while writing was his anchor and a permanent reminder that he could do _some_ good, she didn’t have that much. 

And so, Jughead placed a comforting hand on her arm when she attempted to discreetly wipe a tear from her eye. She felt her heart skip a beat and tried to turn her head away from him in an attempt to hide her blush as he talked to her. “I’m serious Ethel, you just have to believe in yourself more. Don’t let anyone else tell you who you are. If you want to write that article you kick ass at it!” 

When she coughed out a teary but genuine laugh, Jughead continued, “I, however, don’t really recommend getting caught in the crosshairs of Veronica’s war.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, “Think I’ll sit this one out.” 

They started walking again, she was fixing the hair in front of her face, eyes transfixed on him when he joked around, “Yeah, gotta save up your energy for our next article, the investigative piece where we’ll finally find out if all of the wifi in this school is _actually_ powered by a small hamster running on a wheel.” 

He nudged her playfully, successfully evoking a harder laugh from the girl. They were on their way to lunch, he had skipped on history and English. He only skipped because he knew that neither class periods were actually doing _anything_ , just being given allotted time to work on their projects. He knew that he and Betty had their English project in the bag, it was due at the end of the week and they just needed to put a few finishing touches on it. 

He didn’t feel bad about missing the class, no, not at all. But there was a lingering feeling of absence hanging lowly within him, a worry that he had missed out on something-or some _one_ , rather. He rolled his eyes at himself-he was being ridiculous. He needed to stay on guard, be _alert_ , for Christ’s sake. He wasn’t supposed to be missing the very person he was trying to take down, and he was certain she wasn’t missing him. Probably just lamenting the fact she couldn’t further her own plans with Cheryl against him. He felt the familiar feeling of anger tighten up within him.

Still…he rationalized that it wouldn’t be the _worst_ thing if he was able to sneak a few lingering glances her way during lunch. To see the way the sun reflected over her golden ponytail or the way she’d hold her head in her hands when she was laughing too hard at something Kevin said. If he was really lucky, he might look up in the middle of lunch to see her already looking at _him_. It was in these moments specifically that Jughead could almost fool himself into believing that _maybe_ , this could all be genuine.

But then he’d see her in that damned Vixens uniform, hair up in a tight ponytail, laughing as Cheryl whispered in her ear. He’d watch as the student body ogled her, he heard the comments they made about her and he was brought back down to reality, where he didn’t have a _chance_ with her. Not until it snowed in hell or rained in the desert. 

It’d be fine if she would just _leave him alone_. He could deal with liking a girl way out of his league, he’d be fine with pining after her from afar. But no, she had to get under his skin, constantly prospect of _what could be_ over his head. Just within sight but completely out of reach. 

And maybe, he decided, that’s what bugged him. He was worried that his feelings for her were so transparent that it made him an easy target. A great game for Cheryl and her cronies to play. He was the damaged school loner and outcast and Betty, while she hadn’t gone for Cheryl’s title of _Queen_ , she was still royalty, popular. Jughead knew what pretty, popular girls wanted and it wasn’t him. Especially not someone as smart and kind as Betty… 

“Are you alright, Jug?” Ethel leaned forward into his peripherals, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah I’m fine,” it was an easy lie, nearly second nature at this point. He took a deep breath, believing he could trust Ethel with anything when all of the sudden, “It’s just that, with this whole…I don’t know, article about Betty…I don’t know if it’s such a good idea.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and her voice was sharp, like jagged rocks, “Are you serious? Why not?”

“Jughead!” Ethel and Jughead turned their heads quickly to see Betty Cooper herself strutting down the hall in her River Vixens uniform, skirt swishing behind her as she walked. Jughead didn’t miss the looks of appraisal that fell upon the faces of his peers as she glided past them.

Normally she maintained her distance when Jughead was around Ethel or Veronica but today she stepped up to him with wide eyes and jittery hands. 

“We have a problem,” she stated with an urgent tone of voice. 

Jughead’s stomach dropped, fearing the absolute worst, “What is it? What’s wrong, Betty?”

“It’s-she’s crazy!” Betty explained, or tried to at the very least, “She just-changed it!” She was gesturing with her hands in a manner that didn’t help to explain her situation much, and looked exasperated at Jughead for not picking up on what she was trying to say. 

“Hey,” he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Who changed what? Who’s crazy?” gently, he guided them to the side of the hallway not realizing he’d left Ethel behind without so much as a glance in her direction.

“Mrs. Higginbotham,” she breathed out, “It’s due tomorrow. Our project.” 

“What?” he asked in alarm, “Are you _serious_? The syllabus says we have until Friday!” 

“I know! We tried to tell her but she was so angry, she wouldn’t listen!” Betty dismayed, running her hands nervously over her hair. 

“Well, it’s fine, isn’t it? We had most of it done-” he tried to rationalize, to calm the firestorm. He recalled just needing a few finishing touches when Betty cut him off.

“ _Most of_ doesn’t mean _done_! I needed at least fourty-eight hours to rake it over for grammar and for spelling errors and, and, and to make sure it’s perfect!” Her voice escalated, turning the heads of a few passerby. 

“Betty,” He glanced around nervously, not wanting to cause a scene.

“It _has_ to be perfect!”

“And it _will_ be, okay?” He assured her with a smile, squeezing her shoulder gently, “We’ll make it perfect, I swear.” 

She still seemed a bit nervous but took a calming breath, which was at least _something_. The bell blared, buzzing loudly throughout the hallway to indicate the start of lunch. “Let’s cut free period and meet me out front, okay?” She posed it as a question, but Jughead felt he didn’t really have an option.

Instead he smirked, looking down at her, “ _The_ Betty Cooper wants to cut class?”

Betty rolled her eyes but he didn’t miss the small smile playing at the bottom of her lips, “There are extenuating circumstances.”

“And she wants _me_ , little old Jughead Jones to cut with _her_?” He continued on, “Why, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re corrupting me.”

“ _Juggy_ ,” her voice was one of warning, asking not to be tested, but she seemed much calmer now and was smiling wider.

“I’ll be there,” he stated and with one final gentle squeeze to her shoulder, he turned around and walked toward the courtyard.

She watched him as he walked away, smiling never dimming, as Ethel watched her with a clenched fist and a plan forming in her brain. 

\-- 

As promised, he’d met her outside of the school during their free period. They walked together to her house in an easy silence. He could still feel a nervous energy rolling off of her, but somehow it felt different than earlier. Like something else was bothering her.

“I’m…I’m not supposed to have anyone over,” she admitted quietly, as they turned on her street.

“Why not?” He frowned and when she didn’t answer he added, “If it’s that big of an issue, we could’ve just gone to the Pembrooke. I’m sure Ronnie wouldn’t care.”

He remembered their spat from earlier in the day and winced. He wasn’t _so_ sure she wouldn’t mind.

“No, it’s fine,” She exhaled, “My parents and….I mean, my parents won’t be home until later tonight anyway. They’ll never know.” Betty didn’t sound too confident either.

“Should I be prepared to make an emergency exit?” He asked Jestfully, but nodded at the serious look she gave him. 

They walked up the stone pathway to her house. He paused for a bit, looking at the house next door to hers-Archies. Reflecting, he found it a bit strange. For years the house next to Archie’s had remained vacant and he’d recall staring out at it from Archie’s room-wondering if anyone would ever fill it. As kids, he remembered begging his parents to move in, so he could be next to his best friend. He felt embarrassed about it now because his parents never had enough money to even make a down payment on a house as grand as this one and him and Archie weren’t even friends, not anymore. Walking into the house next door, _Betty’s_ house, made him feel like more of an outsider in Archie’s life than ever before.

“Look familiar?” A soft voice called out in the cold.

He whipped his head too quickly to look at Betty, a guilty expression surely painted across his face. Did she know? How he snuck over after their first date to talk to Archie about the whole _Grundy_ thing, only to find a lovers exchange between the window sills of the opposing houses?

“Archie told me,” She explained and when his expression tensed, “About you guys. How you used to be best friends?” 

_Ah_. Realization and relief mingled, flooding his veins, “Right. Yeah. Long time ago.”

“He talks about you a lot,” she muttered, “I think he misses you.”

“Do you talk to him a lot?” Jughead asked bluntly, and her eyes narrow slightly at him. 

She scoffed, “Does everyone just… think we’re dating?” 

“How could they not?” He rebuffed, “That’s all Archie says.”

Betty took a step towards him, “You can’t believe everything you hear.” He supposed she might be right about that, cold exterior defrosting a bit when she grabbed his hand, “Besides, would I have gone on a date with you if I was dating him?”

He shook his head, letting her guide them inside the house, “You got me there.”

“I’m still waiting for a follow up,” She reminded him, sparing him a playful over-the-shoulder glance. 

“You mean a se-second date?” He hated the way his breath hitched in his throat, nearly choking on the words. 

“That’s what happens after a first, isn’t it? Or am I missing something?” She half turned to him as they walked up the staircase, “Do we just skip to the _third_ date?”

His face heated up at that, but he flirted back casually, “Actually I think most people just say their vows immediately after.” 

“Oh so we’re already a few days behind?” She laughed, tugged him up the staircase, “Juggy, you _know_ I like to stay on schedule.”

He stifled a laugh at that, looking up as they approached the second story of her house. The first thing he saw wasn’t Betty’s pink-pastel room with an open door, it was the shut door immediately next to hers. It was a plain, white door with sunlight filtering underneath the doorway. He could see the master bedroom, surely her parents, out of the corner of his eye, but he was focused on the brightly colored _P_ in the center of the closed door. It was a bright, mint green with stripes of purple across it. 

When Betty noticed his staring, she quickly guided him into her room, closing the door behind her at max speed.

But it was too late, “Who’s P?” he asked but Betty was making quick work of rifling through her book bag, already talking about their project.

“Betty,” he persisted, “Who’s P?”

“What?” She looked up at him, feigning innocence, “What are you talking about Jughead? C’mon, let’s just work on this, okay?”

“So that makes two closed doors in this house,” He commented dryly, and she looked up at him, exasperated. 

“I…” She hadn’t been trained to lie about _this_. Her mother had coached her what to tell anyone at her old school if they asked, what to tell her dwindling old friends, how to hide her in Riverdale…but neither Alice nor her daughter planned for this situation. Where _Betty_ would have a boy in her room. So she did what she did best: “P is for Polly…it’s, uh, she’s uh, she’s my sister.” She told the truth.

Jughead already knew this and it was his turn to fake surprise, “What? How?” _How?_ He scoffed at himself, _Nice going_. “I mean, why? Why doesn’t she go to school with us?”

“Why?” Betty's tone suddenly became very defensive and harsh. It was as if she couldn’t believe Jughead had the audacity to ask such a question in the first place, “She’s the only reason we moved here in the first place!” 

A displeased thump came from the other side of the door, Jughead presumed it came from Polly. “Why?” He asked again daringly. 

Her back was turned to him, gripping her copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ rather tightly. At the question, she turned to him with rage in her eyes. It caused him to step back a bit, “Just _drop_ it! Why do you care so much?” 

He’d seen that look in her eyes a few times before. Once at the diner and the last time during the fight.

He gulped, “Okay, consider it dropped.” 

And just as quickly as it had appeared, the fight in her eyes disappeared. There was a look of apprehension on her face, perhaps at her own actions, but she sat down on the bed and motioned for him to join her. 

They rifled through the marked passages in front of them,  both editing the same shared google doc on their respective laptops. They worked in an easy silence, bouncing ideas off of each other or pointing out an error. At one point Betty went downstairs to grab them some popcorn, which resulted in Jughead periodically throwing a piece at her when she got too worked up or too focused on a section of their paper. She’d laugh in response before throwing a piece back at him, which he’d catch perfectly. The time moved fast and it felt like they’d only been working on the project for thirty minutes before they declared it done

In reality, it had been four and a half hours. Betty had only come to realize this when she heard the front door loudly flick open, followed by her mothers voice bellowing about the day she had.

“Oh no,” she stilled instantly, cutting Jughead off mid-joke. 

_“Elizabeth!”_ The muffled voice of her mother echoed up the stairs and came through the door.

His face paled instantly, remembering the woman who more or less dragged Betty to the car on their first date. They looked at each other with shared panic.

“You have to go!” She hissed, quickly grabbing his stuff and shoving it back in his book bag.

“But-how-where?” He sputtered, they both looked at the window, an idea forming in their heads.

The idea was quickly scrapped when Alice walked up the stairs and Betty opted instead to shove Jughead and his belongings into the closet with a quick apology. She spread her clothing hangers to one side to hide him deep against her shared wall with Polly. Rapidly, she shut the doors on him and quieted his noises of protest.

She quickly resumed sitting on her bed, playing music as Alice began knocking on the door. “Elizabeth Marie Cooper!”

Betty pretended to ignore her mother, prompting Alice to thrust the door open out of impatience. 

“ _Elizabeth!_ ” Betty’s head snapped up and she looked at her mom with a look of annoyance.

“What?” She hissed in response.

 “Didn’t you hear me? I’ve been calling you for five minutes!” Her mother grumbled.

“Oh,” she said thoughtfully, “No I didn’t. Must’ve been studying too hard.”

If there was anything light hearted about the exchange, Mrs. Cooper shut it down rather quickly, “There’s no such thing as studying _too_ hard Elizabeth. You should know that by now.”

Through the slits of her closet door, Jughead saw Betty cast her eyes downward in response, heaving a small sigh. Her mother crossed her arms, “Now go unload the groceries from the car.”

Betty shifted her eyes nervously from the closet door to her mother, “But-”

“No ‘buts’ Betty!” Alice cut her off, turning on her heel and walking out of sight.

Mouthing _one minute_ to Jughead, Betty hopped off her bed and ran down the stairs. Her mother yelled something about not running in the house after her, seemingly never pleased.

Once alone and trapped in Betty’s closet, Jughead exhaled feeling like he could breathe for the first time in too damn long. He leaned against the wall with his arms folded across his chest when he heard voices coming from Polly’s room. 

_“I picked up your prenatal vitamins today.”_ He figured that even if the wall was comprised of the thickest of bricks, he could still discern Alice Coopers voice.

A much lower and softer voice followed, _“Thanks_.” 

_“Did you call and schedule the ultrasound yet?”_

A sigh. _“No.”_

_“Why not? These appointments aren’t going to schedule themselves Polly!”_

_“You don’t think I know that?”_

_“Well gee, I sure hoped you would, seeing as I can’t hold your hand forever!”_

_“Whatever.”_

_“I mean really, what am I supposed to do? You’re going to be a mother soon! How can you take care of someone else when you can barely take care of yourself?”_

Much louder, a frustrated scream came from Polly, “ _I know mom! Just leave me alone!”_

There was an awkward pause, an uncomfortable break in the conversation. Jughead felt bad for both of the Coopers, living underneath Alice’s thumb. The tightening in his chest worsened when he heard Polly begin to cry.

_“Oh no,”_ Alice’s voice was much softer now, more nurturing, “ _What’s the matter, sweetie?_ ” 

“ _Betty.”_ The answer was quick, simple. Polly had been on the other side of the wall during their entire study date. Betty wasn’t allowed to have people over. And here Polly was, about to sell her own sister out. 

“ _What about her?”_

_“I’m tired mom. I’m tired of her-of her ignoring me! I have to walk around this house like a ghost, I can’t even leave my room-she hates me! And I’m so sick of it.”_

_“Now now,”_ Alice shushed, _“She’s still just upset we moved-”_

_“She blames me! I heard her mom! She said she blames me! She tells all of her friends that it’s_ my _fault we had to move here! And it’s not, we both know_ she’s _the only reason we had to come to this stupid town-”_

_“Wait, wait, hold up. You heard her? What friends? She’s not to tell anyone about you!”_

_“Just Archie, mom, I just meant Archie! And that’s not the point. If she had never-”_ her voice broke out into a hiccup, just as Jughead was dying to hear what she was about to say.

“ _Shhh_ ,” Alice comforted.

“ _It’s not fair!”_ Polly cried out.

“ _I know, I know. And it is her fault. You just have to remember to keep your distance from her, okay?”_

Jughead furrowed his brows in confusion. What the hell was going on? How was any of this Betty’s fault? And why did Polly need to keep a distance from Betty 

Just as he begin to attempt to put the pieces together, Betty darted back into the room. Alice muttered something to Polly about how she’d fix up her favorite dinner and followed Betty into her room. Betty had a hand on the doorknob, looking excited when she heard her mother close the door behind her. 

“Now what?” Betty sighed, turning around and pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Next time you want to cry to your friend _Archie_ all about how it’s your sisters fault we had to move here, do it somewhere she _can’t_ hear you, okay?” Alice hissed.

Betty’s defenses were up, and Jughead could see her muscles tense as she whispered back, “What are you _talking_ about mother? J-Archie’s my friend! And it’s the _truth_ -if she never got pregnant we wouldn’t be here!” 

Alice sent her a warning glare. “You don’t think _I_ know that?” Jughead could see, or hear rather, where Polly got it from.

Betty shook her head before Alice admitted in a quiet tone, “She’s the reason we moved here, fine. But what does that change, Elizabeth? We’re still here. You might as well make the most of it. If it really upsets you that much, then keep your distance from her!”

The familiar words rolled around in Jughead’s brain, more confused now than ever before. Alice was trying to keep them away from each other, that much was obvious.  But why? And sure, Betty could place the blame on Polly for getting pregnant, but why how could Betty be at fault for any of this?

“Dinner’s in half an hour. I expect your room to be cleaned up by then, after all you don’t live in a _barn_.”

The door slammed behind her, and immediately Betty was pulling him out of the closet.

“I’m so so _so_ sorry about that!” She exclaimed in a hushed whisper.

“It’s fine,” he smirked, looking around her neat and orderly room, “Your room looks clean to me, by the way.” 

She smiled up at him through her lashes. “Thanks…” she trailed off looking at the window once again, “But we should really try to get you out of here.” 

Betty opened the window with a huff, and noting the ladder propped between her and Polly’s window, she reached a slender arm to pull it over. _For Jason_. Jughead’s mind dully supplied. As stealthily as possible, he attempted to clamber out onto the ladder. As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice a certain ginger looking at him from across the yard. Archie had a triangular brow raised, mouth twisted in disapproval.

Jughead ignored the glare he could feel piercing through the back of his beanie. Instead he looked up at Betty, who was gazing down at him foundly. “See you tomorrow?” She asked tentatively, biting her lip.

“See you then, Juliet,” He reached up and swiftly placed a kiss on her cheek, smiling brightly at the way her face lit up.

\-- 

“Well, no thanks to you, I got my article done. _And_ my picture,” Veronica had a triumphant grin on her face.

Jughead took another sip of his coffee, determining it was too early to deal with _Smug_ Veronica. He scrolled through her article on the Word doc, cringing at the scandalous picture she’d taken-Archie with his tongue presumably down Miss Grundy’s throat as she sat across the piano in the music room.

It was damning, truly. The title, splatter across the top **_NEED A TUTOR FOR SEX ED? CALL MS. GRUNDY!_** It dragged Archie, too. In a way that didn’t sit entirely well with Jughead.

“Well?” Veronica sat cross legged next to the monitor with the article proudly displayed, “Ready to publish?” 

“It’s…kinda harsh,” He answered truthfully. Betty’s words were ringing in his ears.

_“The whole town doesn’t need to know!”_

_“He doesn’t deserve to have his…his dirty laundry paraded around here like some sort of a show!”_

“Uh yeah,” she looked at him as if he were daft, “That’s kinda the point darling.”

“I just…I dunno,” he shrugged, feeling his unease increase. 

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” she challenged.

“Jealous?” He huffed, “Of what?”

“The fact that it’s taken me _one_ day to write this take-down article about Archie and it’s taken you _weeks_ just to get a little dirt on Betty!”

“For the record, I found out a lot of dirt last night,” Jughead stated indignantly.

“Ooh! Do tell,” she prompted, “Unless…you’ve had a change of heart?”

“Hardly-” he was about to rebuke when Ethel ran through the door, looking breathless. 

“Jughead!” She called out.

“Hey…Ethel?” He looked at her, exchanging a confused glance with Veronica.

“I think you’re right,” she admitted, “about Betty.”

“What about her?” His interest was peaking.

“Well…I, I was on the fence about this whole, take down thing! She seemed nice enough to me,” Ethel lied straight through her teeth. She disliked Betty the most out of all of them. But she knew she needed to _sell_ this. Or her plan would never work. “But…But yesterday, I heard her talking to Cheryl. After you left.”

“What? What’d she say?” He asked frantically.

“Cheryl…um, she kinda yelled at Betty, called her a smurfette,” she stumbled through, “And said she needed to hurry up and go out with you again if their plan was ever going to work.”

Jughead’s jaw almost hit the floor. His heart sank at the confirmation. He always hoped he was _wrong_. Naively, he let himself believe he was in the back of his mind only for _this_ to happen. He should’ve known better. He _did_ know better. What kind of idiot was he? 

Veronica clenched her fists, eyes narrowing, “You know what? Good for her. That golden haired _brat_ is going to get what’s coming to her-" 

Jughead didn’t hear what else she had to say, instead he stormed off to first period. Ethel smiled to herself, thanking the lord she’d overheard Betty brag to Kevin Keller about how she hinted at another date to Jughead yesterday. Her plan was off, without a hitch and her timing was nothing short of impeccable.

She followed Jughead to math, putting on the mask of a consoling, dismayed friend.

Jughead didn’t think his day could get any worse when Reggie and Moose took their seats behind him and Ethel in class.

“Yo dude,” Reggie said, “you hear the big news?”

“Nah, what happened?” Moose stifled a yawn.

“Andrews finally tapped the blonde psycho’s ass last night,” Reggie laughed.

Ethel’s head jerked up, eyes wide as she turned to Jughead in confusion. She had nothing to do with _this._ She watched as Jughead sucked in an anxious breath, trying hard to keep his gaze focused on the front of the room.

“No way? Cooper? You’re shitting me man!” 

“No way brah, he’s got the pics to prove it too,” Reggie insisted. 

“That’s so hot dude, think he’ll share?”

Jughead and Ethel sent them both a glare, prompting Reggie to bark at them, “What are you two virgins staring at?”

Moose laughed, “Calm down bro, they’re just confused because they don’t know how sex works.” He turned to them and demonstrated through lewd gestures of his hand.

Jughead just pulled his phone out and texted Veronica two words: _Publish. It._

Turns out he didn’t have a change of heart after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...anyway...not everything is as it seems? or maybe it is ;) i proooomise there are some answers (and some fluff!) in the very near future
> 
> as always you follow me @ aswellingstorm.tumblr.com :)


	7. The Right Thing

Third period was a disaster. Calling it a category four hurricane would be putting it lightly. Veronica’s article was viral by the end of second period, tucked into every locker in the hallway. The online version was so popular, it had _even_ been shared to Jughead himself.

It seemed like everyone knew, except for _Mrs._ Grundy. But all of that changed when Sheriff Keller came storming down the hallway, deputies in tow, with a look of disgust smeared across his face. 

Jughead’s heart stopped, flashbacks to the dreaded day reeling in his mind. It was only when they walked past the door, without so much as glancing inside the classroom, did the boy feel his heart rate return to normal.

“My goodness, what’s all the ruckus about?” Mrs. Grundy huffed from her seat, attempting to take attendance with her notebook and pencil. 

There was a dead silence among the class, one that only stiffened when Betty walked into the room. If looks could kill, Veronica Lodge would've been dead on the spot. 

“What the _hell_ Veronica?” she hissed, sitting down in front of Veronica and Jughead, “How could you _publish_ that?” 

“Just about as easily as I’ll sleep tonight knowing someone finally did the _right_ thing,” She raised an eyebrow, speaking in an equally hushed tone. 

“And you’re _okay_ with this?” Betty then turned her attention to Jughead.

He gritted his teeth and turned his cheek. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. Partly because he was hurt. He knew the truth now, knew that Betty’s just been stringing him along as some sort of game for Cheryl. And _god dammit_ , it hurt to have that confirmation. Because part of him wanted to be wrong, he wanted to be some jaded asshole that just pushes people away because he’s incapable of love. He didn’t want to be apart of some ruse. And as if Ethels story wasn’t enough confirmation, the whole school was also _just_ talking about how Betty and Archie hooked up, before a more pressing matter occupied their mouths. Anything that Jughead _thought_ he had with Betty was merely a lie.

He also refused to look at her because he knows when he does, he’ll see something different. He’ll see some _one_ different. He’ll see Betty Cooper staring at him with those bright green eyes and, holy shit is she just as _breath_ taking as she was the day she walked into this damn school. He’ll see someone who contradicts the facts, the rumors, the stories relayed to him all wrapped up neatly in a nice bow. And, because he doesn’t _want_ to believe it, any of what he’s heard in the past two hours, he knows if he looks at her right now, just one glance, his brain would throw it all away. All the logic, the common sense, the hurt…all because Betty Cooper doesn’t _look_ like she’s capable of those things.

“Oh,” Betty says bitterly, eyes boring holes into the side of his head, “I see. Back to ignoring me again. That’s typical-” 

“Betty!” Cheryls voice crooned from where she’s looming over the three of them. She looked too joyous, “Tell me, how was the ménage à trois?”

Betty broke her attention away from Jughead to look up at Cheryl in distaste, “The _what_? What are you talking about?” 

“Oh please, don’t be such a prude Betty Cooper!” Her harmonic voice distracted the rest of the room, all eyes on the redhead, “We _all_ know what you and the boy next door were up to last night! Now my question is, were you in on the whole sex scandal as well?” Undoubtedly, she referred to Ms. Grundy. 

Betty looked hurt, and something registered in Veronica’s brain at her expression. But moreover, she looked confused, “Me and Archie? Wha-” 

“Ms. Blossom! That’s enough,” Mrs. Grundy called out, “Please take your seat this instant.”

“Will do Mrs. G!” Cheryl whipped around with a bright, plastered smile. Before she left to walk to her seat, she leaned down and whispered in Betty’s ear, just loud enough for Jughead and Veronica to overhear, “Didn’t know _all_ the Cooper girls crave carrot cake.” 

Jughead finally looked at her, a glare settled upon his features. Betty looked like she was going to cry and he just shook his head. 

“Jug-” Betty’s voice was barely a whisper. 

“Jughead is currently unavailable,” Veronica snaked an arm over his protectively, “If you want, I can take a message for him.”

A high pitched cry broke everyone’s attention in the room. The stomping of boots and voices echoed in the hallway, other students were jolting out of their classroom to find the source of the noise. 

Mrs. Grundy was the first in the room to move. A broken, low “ _No_.” fell from her mouth in horror as she jumped up. 

Because outside in the hallway was Sheriff Keller, dragging a sobbing, resistant Ms. Grundy away in handcuffs. Her very own daughter. Mrs. Grundy yelled, “Geraldine!” and followed after the officers demanding to know what the meaning of _this_ was. 

Jughead, Betty, Veronica and the rest of the classroom piled out into the hallway. A large crowd had already formed, kids reaching out to take pictures and videos on their phones. Some were laughing, others screaming amongst the chaos.

Veronica looked at the ensuing mess with a smirk, arms crossed and leaning against the row of lockers, seemingly content with the victory before her. 

Jughead felt horrified. He knew that what Grundy and Archie were doing was  _wrong_ and most certainly illegal. But he didn’t…he didn’t think it’d end like _this._ With half of the school watching the downfall, or Mrs. Grundy falling to the ground crying on her knees as the officers tore her away from her daughter. Another family broken.

There had to have been a _better_ way for this to happen, he told himself.

Out of his peripherals, he saw Archie running off away from the crowd. He pretended he wasn’t hurt when he felt Betty leave his side, down the hallway to chase after him. Part of him wondered if he should follow after her, but a much bigger part of him told him he deserved to keep his feet planted right where they were and watch the mess unfold, the mess he helped create and that he deserved the way his heart clenched with every beat.

\--

“Archie! Archie _stop_!”  Betty cried as Archie pounded his fists against a row of lockers. His knuckles were bloodied, but he didn’t feel a sliver of pain. 

“Archie, come on!” Betty begged, stepping towards him and attempting pull him away the lockers. Sizable dents were forming on the lockers where his fists had previously flung.

“Leave me alone Betty!” He followed her pull and turned around to face her. 

“Archie!” She protested, “I get it, you’re hurt, and, and afraid-” 

A bitter laugh fell out of him, “Afraid? You think I’m _afraid_? Tell me Betty, what do I have left to be afraid of, when my worst nightmare just came true?” 

She didn’t have the faintest idea of what to say to that-he wasn’t wrong, after all. “I’m…I’m sorry, Arch.”

“Why are you sorry?” He sneered, “Your _boyfriend_ should be the one apologizing!” 

“For what? Jughead had _nothing_ to do with this!” She bit back at him, displeased with where this conversation was going.

 He ran his aching hands through his hair, “Seriously Betty? You really believe that?”

“Yes, _Archie,_ I do!” She defended Jughead wholeheartedly. “ _Veronica_ is the one who wrote that article-not him!”

“And what? You don’t think he had a _thing_ to do with it? I mean really, how _stupid_ can you be?” He regretted the words as soon as they fell out of his mouth, sucking in a sharp breath when Betty’s face fell.

“I’m…I’m not _stupid_ Archie,” She backed away from him, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

 “Jughead is bad news! I’m just trying to warn you, do you really want to make the same mistake again by trusting some stupid guy?”

 “Just stop, Archie, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” She shook her head, stray tears falling down her face. 

“Seems like the only stupid guy here is you, pal,” Both Betty and Archie looked up in alarm to find Jason Blossom approaching them both.

Betty wiped stray tears from her eyes, the last thing she needed was Jason reporting back to _Polly_ about this.

“What do you want, Jason?” Archie rolled his eyes, far from being in a mood suitable for the better of the twins. 

“It’s not what Jayjay wants,” Cheryls voice appeared from the shadows, dramatic and ominous as ever, “It’s what we _all_ want.” 

Betty stifled a groan as Jason smiled at his sister. “See,” Cheryl sauntered up to Betty, “For better or for worse, Jay is _Polly_ -whipped, as we all know. And luckily for you…that has some _benefits_.”

The blonde glanced nervously between the two. This felt like some sort of trap, and there was a surmounting feeling of dreading building within her. 

It was then that Betty noticed how angry Jason looked. He was seething, really, with a glare transfixed on Archie. 

“Should we even be talking about _her_ right now?” Archie pointed out, “And what does any of this have to do with me?”

 “We shouldn’t be,” she answered simply before placing a perfectly manicured hand on his chest, “And as always Archiekins,” her voice was sickly sweet but Betty could make out something menacing just underneath her eyes, “This is _all_ about you.”

“See, like you,” Jason cleared his throat, “I used to let Geraldine…manipulate me, _use_ me. Make me think I was special or something.”

Betty watched him, mouth agape. Since when was _Jason_ involved with Grundy? Did Polly know about this? She watched a vein nearly pop on Archie's forehead. 

“What?” He asked innocently, “You thought you were the only one? That you were _different_? No,” Jason chuckled, but there was no real humor behind it, “You were just the only one _stupid_ enough to believe her.” 

Archie moved to attack, to throw his fists against something that could actually hit him back, but surprisingly it was Cheryl who held him in place.

“It wasn’t until I met Polly,” he spared a glance to the bewildered Betty, “That realized our relationship for what it truly was: a lie. A ruse, a perverted dream of hers.” 

“So naturally,” Cheryl continued, tightening her grip on Archie's fist with one hand and running her red nails down the side of his flushed face, “When news broke of your _affair_ , Jayjay just wanted to help. To reach out to you. Let you know you’re not alone.” 

They paused, looking at Archie expectantly who looked absolutely puzzled, “Okay? So I’m not alone, great-”

Another cold laugh came from Jason, “Oh _no_. Now you are,” he corrected, “Because _unlike_ you I didn’t use someone as a scapegoat. I owned up to my actions.” 

“What are you talking about?” Archie squirmed.

Jason and Cheryl’s eyes flicked to Betty, “Polly helped me see the light. She saved me-she,” he was unable to keep a fond smile off of his face, “She made me realize how much I was worth, made me see how that _monster_ was abusing me.”

Betty nodded, remembering the day Jason and Polly first met. How it’d been nothing but secret sneak-ins past three in the morning since then, she’d always wondered what they talked about. What drew Jason to someone who was so…seemingly unavailable.

 “And that’s why I’ll love her,” He affirmed, “I’ll love her no matter what. No matter who’s baby is in her stomach,” his voice drops down below to a whisper.

“I’ll do anything to protect her,” he vowed, “And her family.” His piercing eyes met Betty’s.

“And where Jayjay goes, I follow,” Cheryl announced with a bright smirk, “Besides, I’ll be the best auntie in the world!” It was a competitive remark to Betty, but the blonde just rolls her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Betty spoke up for the first time, “I’m just…confused.”

“Ah yes,” Cheryl acknowledges, “That same, so similar look of confusion that was on your face earlier today. When I asked you about you and Archie’s little love affair.” 

It felt like eternities had passed since then, but Betty nodded in confirmation as Archie paled beside her. 

“See what _I_ heard,” Cheryl’s nails dug into the skin just a bit on Archie’s face, “Was that late last night, poor miss Sunshine Betty Cooper simply _couldn’t_ keep herself from red hot Archie Andrews anymore.” Betty opened her mouth to protest, declare her innocence, when Jason picked up:

“So she snuck out of her room traveled across the way, climbed into his window and…the rest is history,” Jason finished. 

“Except, when I heard those words out of Reggie Mantles mouth, I couldn’t help but protest,” Cheryl sighed, “I mean, after all, didn’t Betty Cooper _just_ threaten me last week if I didn’t let her date the walking _Hot Topic_ advertisement?”

“But then Reggie insisted that Archie had pictures, videos even, proof of their love affair,” Cheryl carried on, “And I couldn’t believe it, even when I heard it from the horses mouth himself. And when I asked Betty about it...it sounded like it was the first time she was hearing of such a thing.” 

Betty felt like she couldn’t breathe. Was _this_ why she’d been receiving strange looks from everyone this morning? Why Jughead wouldn’t even look at her? She was used to people staring, but she’d heard comments and whispers this morning that make her skin tick. 

“Archie…” she whispered, “Is it true?” 

His eyes were downcast, “It is.” 

“ _What_?” She couldn’t help it, tears were forming in her eyes, “Why would you do that? How could you-how could you do that to me? After everything?”

“I..I had to,” He said, wincing as Cheryl dug her nails into his skin, “I told you weeks ago, my dad was getting suspicious. Reggie, Moose, they wouldn’t leave me alone!” 

“So why’d you have to drag me into it?” The blonde cried, “After…after what happened at Our Children of Quiet Mercy,” it was a name she hadn’t uttered in a while, almost foreign to her, “You _knew_ …you _knew_ what this would do to me! To my reputation! I mean…what if my _mom_ found out? She’d have a heart attack!” 

Cheryl and Jason looked away. They’d heard bits and pieces, stories of Betty and Polly’s old school…some of the reasons Polly believed they moved here. From what little they knew, it wasn’t pretty. 

“I wasn’t thinking! Okay?” Archie spat out, not looking even a little remorseful.

“No!” She shook her head, walking over to him. “It’s not _okay_ Archie! How could you do this to me? I thought…I thought we were friends.”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” he muttered.

“Not good enough,” Cheryl sighed. 

“I’ll tell you why Betty,” Jason stepped forward, “He’s a selfish _prick_.”

“ _Fuck you_ ,” Archie spat out, which proved to be a huge mistake, because immediately, Betty was pushed to the side by Cheryl as Jason lunged forward, wailing Achie in the face with a closed fist.

“Jason!” Betty yelled, perturbed. 

But the older redhead didn’t stop, he was on Archie as the latter fell backwards. He punched Archie again and again as the boys back hit the floor. 

“Jason! Stop it!” Betty continued to screech, mortified at the scene before her.

Cheryl seemed largely unfazed, annoyed only at Betty’s pleas for them to stop, “That’s enough, Jayjay.”

“You’re going to tell everyone the _truth_ ,” Jason grabbed Archie by the collar of his letterman, “That you lied about you and Betty, you hear me? Tell them you made it all up, I don’t care for what reason. And this?” he shook Archie, “will feel like a butterfly landing on a flower, compared to what I _will_ do if I hear one more rumor or you pull any other shit, you got that?”

He didn’t release Archie until he muttered a yes. And even when he did, it was a rough shove backwards. “Good." 

\--

“I mean, honestly? What were you two thinking?” Hermione paced in front of Veronica and Jughead, the fireplace roaring behind her. “You should have told someone-anyone!- the moment you found out about this.”

“This isn’t Jugheads fault,” Veronica huffed, “And besides, who would’ve believed us? Geraldine was born and _raised_ here, she’s an alumni of Riverdale! And same with her mother!”

“So what?” Hermione stopped in her tracks, facing her daughter abruptly, “You think that makes her _invincible_? You had proof, solid proof clearly, you should’ve gone to the police!”

“After how they’ve treated Daddy?” the younger raised a brow, she wasn’t above using her father as a bargaining chip or as a thinly veiled excuse, in this argument, “I don’t _trust_ the police.”

“Then you go to another teacher, a principal-you come to me, Veronica!” Hermione rarely raised her voice, but she was making an exception this time.

“And you,” Hermione turned to Jughead, picking up her glass of white wine, “You _knew_ what she was doing. You could’ve stopped this.”

“I’m sor-”

Veronica interrupted him, a protective hand placed on his shoulder, with a shake of her head, “No. Jughead isn’t part of this mom, we didn’t do _anything_ wrong by bringing a sexual predator to justice!” 

“Of course you didn’t, Geraldine deserves to _suffer_ for this,” Hermione’s tone changed, “But, _mija_ , you’re not the judge nor the jury. You don’t get to publicly crucify her.” 

“But mother-”

“She’s right,” Jughead sighed, “There…there had to be a better way for us to go about this.”

 “Jughead, seriously? Come on,” Veronica implored, hurt. She tried to look him in the eyes, but he only shifted his gaze up to Hermione.

She nodded as he continued, “And…it wasn’t Veronica’s fault. I could’ve stopped her from publishing it, but I told her to do it because I was angry. It was…it was just stupid. And I’m sorry.” 

Veronica recoiled, shifting her way away from him in betrayal. Jughead was surprised to feel Hermione’s hand rest comfortingly on his shoulder, “Thank you for your honesty, Jughead. I’m afraid some of the blame _still_ does fall upon Veronica,” she eyed her daughter wearily as Jughead stood up, taking a cue to let the ladies discuss.

Hermione didn’t know much about the Jones boy, not as nearly as much as her daughter. But living with him for the past few weeks had taught her much. He was polite, almost to a fault, darkly humorous and even charming when he wanted to be. But having known his father and recalling how Jughead spent a week steadfastly avoiding the invitation of an open home (opting instead for a cold, unsafe trailer) she knew he was flighty. When things seemed too good to be true, he often thought they were. He almost looked for a reason to run away from the good things he had in life, but Hermione wanted to make something abundantly clear:

 “Oh and Jughead? I expect to see you at dinner tonight.” She raised an eyebrow authoritatively and he gave her a small smile in return. They both understood the message underneath that despite this disaster, he was still more than welcome to stay. 

\--

A few hours later, and Veronica was still stewing in her bedroom. 

She had anticipated a stern “talking to” from a very disappointed Sheriff Keller. She wasn’t surprised when Principal Weatherbee called her into his office and demanded she take down the article. She was unfazed as her mother lectured her about how Lodges _never_ destroy another's name. 

But when Jughead turned on her and admitted their fault, it hurt more than she’d like to admit.

Upon her arrival in Riverdale over a year ago, she was less than thrilled at the lackluster life the town had to offer. They had _one_ nightclub, and it was technically out of city limits. She’d heard rumors of the gangs on Southside, but she wasn’t _that_ desperate for a little drama.

Things started to turn around for her when she met Archie Andrews, the cute football player whose head was in the game but his heart was in the song. He was a package deal at that point, accompanied by the brooding, moody Jughead Jones-rival to the greatest and most ominous of black holes. And, although he was quiet, he was easily the smartest kid at the school and the only match for Veronica’s quick-wit. 

They were nice, no comparison to her high-strung friends in New York,  but _nice_. They offered her a seat at their lunch table. Archie convinced her to try out for the cheerleading squad and Jughead, although he tried to warn her about the forest fire known commonly as Cheryl, supported the idea, even told her it’d be the only thing stopping her from blowing her brains out. (She only learned much later how Jughead upset was, worried her joining the River Vixens would end their short-lived friendship)

The only other person who was _nice_ to her that day was Ethel Muggs. While the rest of the study body had been swapping gross rumors about her father, Ethel was heartbreakingly nice to her on her tour. She shared a few classes with her as well and found Ethel to be charming and… _genuine_. It was a trait she wasn’t used to, but what you see is what you get with Ethel.

Veronica was further thrilled to find Ethel at try-outs for the Vixens after school. Less thrilled when she heard Cheryl publicly humiliate her in front of nearly the entire female-student body. She felt a sort of second-hand embarrassment for Ethel, a panging in her chest she couldn’t quite entirely ignore even when Cheryl enthusiastically endorsed Veronica as the newest River Vixen. 

And when Cheryl told Veronica she had to pretend to be Moose Mason and write Ethel Muggs love letters only to humiliate her at a homecoming party or she was out of the River Vixens, Veronica returned her uniform the next day.

Archie seemed disappointed that she wouldn’t be cheering for him on the sidelines but…she hadn’t left her past behind her in New York just to repeat her same mistakes here in Riverdale, after all. She kept close to Ethel, if only to keep watch on her and make sure Cheryl didn’t make the Muggs girl the victim of another Vixens initiation test.

Veronica didn’t have much experience in being emotionally _there_ for other people but after _November 10 th_, she didn’t have much of a choice. In one night, Jughead had lost his entire family, some in the physical sense but more so in the emotional sense. By the suns rise on November 11th, the entire student body had turned on him as well. She should’ve known to stay away from Archie after the way she watched him slowly withdraw from Jughead, how he’d ditch him last minute and eventually stop acknowledging him in the hallways.

But she was still attracted to Archie, just believed he was another dumb boy who was incapable of processing his own emotions. For the rest of the school year, she bounced between Jughead and Archie's side, trying to close the Grand Canyon-gap between the former best friends. Jughead tried to warn her that it was fruitless, that she’d only be next in his game and she didn’t believe him until it happened.

Jughead was just as bad as handling emotions as Veronica was but she can vividly recall his immediate concern when she showed up in their regular booth at Pops with tears in her eyes. He never said “I told you so”, never even look like he _thought_ about all the times he warned her. He let her cry on his shoulder and bought her a chocolate shake.

Eventually Veronica decided to reanimate _The Blue and Gold_ , enlisting the only other talented writer in the school: Jughead. She dragged Ethel along with them and thus the holy trinity was born.

Meetings at _The Blue and Gold_ started off as shop talk, assigning articles, working on revisions on the like but eventually bleed into long conversations about how the three of them couldn’t wait to beat this small town. They all had plans that involved colleges far beyond the city limits, freedom that was so close they could almost taste it. They bonded over their emotional baggage, Ethel with her oppressive parents, Veronica with her father's shady past and Jughead with…well, his whole life basically. They bickered over what to watch during movie night, hung out at Pop’s and even occasionally walked through the 24 hour grocery store at three in the morning-because what else was there to do in Riverdale?

And while Ethel was a great friend, if Veronica was being truly honest with herself she was far closer to Jughead. She’d tell him when he was being an overly pretentious douchebag and he’d call her out when she was being “too snobby”. They were always honest with each other.

Which is why it hurt so much to hear Jughead say that they were wrong: he wasn’t lying. And that made her feel incredibly alone. He supported her through ever rant session about the horrible, rude, flaky Archie Andrews. Every article idea, every half-thought out plan for life beyond Riverdale, he supported it. He was there through the highs and the lows and right now she was feeling incredibly low. And he wasn’t there. Dully, Veronica reminded herself not to cast stones for, after all, it was November 9th, mere hours until the one-year anniversary of what could easily be described as the worst day in Jughead’s life.

“Miss Lodge,” Smithers tapped on her door. 

She jerked her attention to the door, “Yes Smithers?”

“You have a visitor,” He looked at her impassively and, although she was surprised, she followed him to the doorway of their apartment.

Her surprised was only furthered when she saw who was awkwardly shuffling behind the door-Betty Cooper.

“Are you looking for Jughead?” Veronica asked wearily, still lingering in the door frame. When Betty shook her head in denial Veronica scoffed, “Then are you _lost_?” 

Betty took a deep breath before saying, “I came to talk to you.”

“If you’re here to reprimand me from your little soap box, I’m not interested,” Veronica turned to close the door when Betty spoke. 

“You did the right thing, Veronica,” Her voice was earnest and truthful, “You just did it in the wrong way.”

The words resonated in Veronica, making her step out into the hallway and shutting the door behind her softly. Her gaze was on the floor when she replied, “I know.” 

“You had more courage than I did,” Betty admitted. It hurt her, being less than perfect. But she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She had been worried that if the truth came out about Archie and Ms. Grundy that Archie would then blame _her_ and tell the whole town about Polly.

Veronica didn’t really know what to say. She felt like she’d been railroaded by everyone all day, from Sheriff Keller to even Jughead. But here was one person, the righteous do-gooder Betty Cooper on her doorstep, complimenting her.

“I don’t know if Jughead told you,” Betty sighed, “But I…I’ve known. About Archie and Grundy, since I moved here.”

“And what?” Veronica cocked her head to the side, “You figured you’d still shoot your best shot with the boy next door?”

Her voice was a little too harsh but Veronica couldn’t help herself. She remembered how Betty lied to her and said there was nothing between her and Archie, not to mention how upset Jughead was upon hearing what the blonde was up to last night.

“No,” Her reaction was an instant vehement denial, “I…I promised him I’d go on a group date with him. Back in September.”

“So you were what?” Veronica wondered, “His _beard?_ Why?" 

“He asked me to. So he could cover his trail with Grundy, his family and friends were getting suspicious. I told myself that I was helping him, I was biding him time so he could figure out how to end it with her, but the reality is I was _too afraid_ to do anything about it… and I ended up just prolonging their relationship.” 

“But today…he took it far. With what he said about me and him this morning,” Veronica could see tears forming in Bettys eyes, “I don’t know what’s gotten into him…he never used to be like this.”

“People surprise you,” Veronica noted dully.

“I thought we were friends,” it was a broken whisper, and something in Veronica begged her to reach out and comfort Betty. It was a persistant nagging.

“He tried to destroy your reputation,” Veronica pointed out, “Not exactly something a _friend_ does.”

“I’m just…I’m worried about him, even now,” Betty sighed, wishing she could make herself stop caring about him. She leaned her back against the wall opposite of Veronica.

“Of course you are,” It made Veronica smile, knowing that the goodness inside of Betty still persisted, “But he’s such a _douchebag_ …it makes me regret what I did a little less.”

Betty shot her a skeptical look that caused them both to laugh a little. “Okay…yeah, no,” Veronica relented, “I still shouldn’t have done what I did.” 

“Noble intentions at least?” Betty offered with a half smile. 

“I like your thinking Cooper,” Veronica returned the smile, “You know…I think we could learn something from each other.” 

“Really?” Betty almost laughed. 

There was an odd sense of longing in the air. Longing for better friends, for when both girls arrived to the sleepy town of Riverdale. Betty couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like if her and Veronica were friends on her first day of school. And…Veronica knew it wasn’t possible, but a big part of her wished Betty was already in Riverdale when she moved in. Curious about the possibilities their friendship could’ve held if _Betty_ was also at that table at Pop’s when Veronica walked in.

“Yeah, really,” Veronica walked over and leaned on the wall, right next to Betty, “I think I could teach _you_ some courage and you…could teach _me_ some kindness.”

Betty looked surprised and turned to Veronica, “So…friends?”

Veronica nodded, “Friends.” She even let Betty pull her into a tight hug. 

Betty Cooper, the untouchable new girl and Veronica Lodge, the ice queen and _former_ new girl became B and V: friends at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a surprise update and a true thanksgiving miracle to my american readers  
> this chapter is a liiiiittle bit shorter because i was worried if i tried to introduce another plot point into this chapter it would've been too rushed! :( but i pinky promise next chapter you guys will all be getting the answers you've been waiting so patiently for ;)
> 
> i also promise i'll be responding to comments soon and reading them only fuels my writing fire *cough cough*
> 
> anyway, feel free to follow me @aswellingstorm.tumblr.com, i will eventually install a theme that isn't completely irritating


	8. Half Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for character death, mentions of drugs/alcohol use

Jughead stretched his arms before draping one over his face to shield himself from the sunlight streaming in through the window. A swirling, nauseating feeling of dread should be pitted in his stomach but…surprisingly, it wasn’t there. Instead he felt warm, safe and content almost like he was floating. 

The notion was amplified when he felt a warm, light arm wrap across his his chest followed by the feeling of someone nuzzling into his neck. The person took a deep, sleepy breath and Jughead could feel his heart clench with affection.

 He looked down to his side to see Betty Cooper staring back at him with tired eyes, “Morning Betts,” he muttered, reaching his hand over to brush her hair behind her ear. When she smiled and leaned into the touch, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She had a soft look on her face, one that he felt content with looking at forever. Dully, the back of his mind told him that _this_ is what love is but before he could attempt to agree or argue a loud, blaring noise ripped him out of his dream.

Suddenly, he was sitting upright, alone in his bed at the Pembroke. There was no sunlight peeking though the shades and certainly no Betty Cooper lying in his bed beside him. Grumpily, he shut off his alarm clock before he fisted the sheets beneath him.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had a dream like that. As a matter of fact, he’d lost count of all of the times he had that same dream. It kept repeating itself, sometimes two or three times in the same week.

He shook his head, trying to will any thoughts of snuggling up to Betty Cooper out of his brain. He grabbed his phone to find a missed call and a voice message from his grandparents.

They called around 5am, knowing perfectly well that he’d be asleep and unable to answer the phone. Because although they liked to pretend to love Jughead, the truth is that they’d never stop resenting him for the sole reason that he looked too much like FP. They never picked up the phone when he called, and he was almost certain that all letters and emails he’d attempt to send to JB were intercepted by then.

He should’ve just deleted the voicemail, he knew what it was about anyway, but something made him press play.

“Good morning Forsythe…” his grandfathers cold voice was gruff and just above a whisper, “I guess you must still be sleeping. We just wanted to call and let you know…we’re thinking about you. We’ll have a candle lit for your mother all day. We love you, Forsythia misses you-” ** _THUD_**.

He threw his phone across the room, most definitely cracking the screen along the way. It was bullshit, all of it. Obviously he was _still_ sleeping at give in the morning. They didn’t love him, they didn’t _care_ about him. If they did, they wouldn’t have left him to pick up the pieces of a broken FP all by himself. And for them to say Jellybean missed him when they wouldn’t even let him _talk_ to her…it was all bullshit.

November 10th was already proving to be a real pain in the ass.

 -- 

The morning had been one of warning and utter confusion for Betty. Home Ec passed by much quicker now that her and Veronica were friends. Kevin, Veronica and her got along surprisingly well and since Mrs. Grundy was understandably not in at school, they had a substitute who was steadfastly asleep at the front of the room. 

When the bell rang, Veronica cleared her throat and looked a bit uncomfortable, “B? Can I talk to you for one hot sec?”

Kevin stayed behind with Betty, a fact that Veronica didn’t entirely mind. “Sure, what’s up?” Betty asked, exchanging a nervous glance with Kevin.

“It’s November 10th,” Veronica stated plainly, watching the lightbulb go off in Kevins head while Betty remained unphased, “And that date doesn’t mean much to you but…” 

“But what? What’s going on?”

 “Just…stay away from Jughead today. Okay?” Veronica sighed, feeling bad when a look of hurt flashed across Betty’s face. 

“What? Why? Is this because of what Archie was saying yesterday? I thought you told him-”

Kevin grabbed her arm, “Veronica’s right. He’s on the war path today, I tried to tell him his shoe was untied and he told me to ‘shove it’.”

Veronica nodded sympathetically, “I promise this has nothing to do with you, okay? Just give him some space.”

“Fine,” Betty resigned, an unpleasant feeling curling in her stomach. Kevin was far less attached to Jughead than Veronica was, so his accordance spoke volumes.

 He didn’t show up to third period which wound up being another blanket class without Mrs. Grundy there. He rolled into fourth period about five minutes late and, despite how anal Mrs. Higgenbotham normally is about punctuality, she only spared him a sympathetic glance. 

On second thought, most students in the class seemed to be doing that. The ones who typically never acknowledged his existence seemed to regard him with a mix of sympathy and fear. Betty was surprised when he took the open seat next to her over the several other open seats located in the back of the room. 

He looked miserable, his face sullen and shoulders raised defensively. She tapped her pen against her spiral notebook with unbound energy. She wanted desperately to scribble out a note to distract him from whatever he was thinking about so intently. But she heeded Veronica’s warning and did her best to give him space. 

Towards the end of the class, Mrs. Higgenbotham handed their papers back to them. Everyone was muttering to their partners abut their grades when Betty turned theirs over. 

It was completely clean, no grade, no markings, no red ink-nothing. Except for a message in the top left hand corner in cursive that read: _See me after class_. Betty’s heart plummeted, feeling nervous and rather vulnerable.

She was cracking her fingers, a nervous habit of hers, wondering what they had done wrong. Did they miss something? Did _she_ miss the point of the assignment entirely? Oh god, what if Mrs. Higgenbotham thought it was plagiarized? They certainly hadn’t copied it off of anyone elses work but Betty would be a fool to think they’d be the first ones to think of- 

 ** _Easy there tiger, we’ll be fine… ~~probably~~_** Betty was surprised to find a note discreetly pushed onto her desk, from none other than Jughead himself. He didn’t look at her, but he must’ve noticed her nervous fidgeting.

Betty debated writing back to him, but restrained herself. The bell rang not too long after so Betty and Jughead stayed stock still in their seats.

“Ms. Cooper and Mr. Jones,” Mrs. Higgenbotham closed the door to mute the outside noise of kids moving about in the hallway. Her face was unreadable, “After reading your work I must say…”

Jughead and Betty glanced at each other nervously before Mrs. Higgenbotham finished, “I’m _impressed_. This is no college prep course, I only take the best and the brightest of the grade in my class and I don’t make it easy. Pressure produces diamonds, after all and the fact that you two have so clearly outshone your peers says a lot.”

Betty was in shock, a pure state of disbelief but had a smile on her face nonetheless. Jughead’s jaw almost hit the floor when she handed them each a pamphlet.

“I know it’s a long way away for you both but there’s a writing camp being held this summer. It’s a competitive application process and I’ve invited other students to apply but I think it’d be an excellent opportunity.” The teacher beamed at them, a smile so genuine it lit up her face.

 “Thank you so much, I mean-I don’t know what to say,” Betty smiled back.

 Jughead mumbled a thank you as well and Mrs. Higgenbottham only urged them to apply to the program once more.

 As they walked outside, Betty wanted to gush and talk about how awesome that just was-but once again stopped herself. She kept her gaze on the floor as they walked to their next class, lunch.

 Jughead noticed, “You’re quiet today.”

 “Well, yeah,” She agreed obviously, “Of course I am.”

“Of course _why_? Are you still mad about Archie?” He stopped walking and sent her a suspicious look.

Without thinking, she gave him the answer she’d been given all morning, “Because it’s November _10 th_ which apparently that means something to you. And why would I be mad?”

“How do you know about _that_?” Jughead narrowed his eyes skeptically. 

“Veronica and Kevin told me,” She explained but there was something unsettling about Jughead, some type of anger burning underneath the surface that put her on edge.

“Keller?” He rolled his eyes, “Great, _perfect_.”

“Whats wrong with Kevin?” Betty crossed her arms defensively. Kevin was one of her first friends here-

“Just forget it,” Jughead began walking again, “Only thought you’d be mad because I pulled the trigger on Veronica’s article about your beloved Prince Harry.” 

“ _What_?” Betty gasped, following after him.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” He turned around to face her, face bright with anger, “I told Veronica to publish it-hell, I’m the one who _told_ her about them in the first place!”

“You-you did? Even after I _begged_ you not to?” She desperately wanted him to be lying to her, praying he didn’t take advantage of her trust like that.

“Yeah I did!” His voice was getting louder, “Because, unlike everyone else at this school, you don’t have me wrapped around your finger Betty! And I can see you for what you really are, just another one of Cheryls cronies!”

Betty could feel tears forming in her eyes-God would she ever undergo a 24 hour period in Riverdale where she wasn’t on the verge of tears. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, Betty,” He scoffed, “I’m not _stupid_. I know that she’s been putting you up to …-to this!” He gestured wildly at the air between them.

“ _What_?”

“Right. So the perfect, beautiful Betty Cooper comes to Riverdale High and not even _five_ minutes after she sets foot on school grounds, she joins the River Vixens? The most elite social group around here?”  He was eyeing her suspiciously, but she still wasn’t sure what he was getting at.

“And all of the sudden, out of the blue, Betty fucking Cooper takes an interest in _me_? The outcast? The guy who’s such a loser people can’t even remember his name?” He shook his head, “I’m not an idiot, Betty, I know what pledging _bullshit_ Cheryl makes the newest River Vixens do! So what was your assignment? Befriend the weirdo Jughead Jones? Pretend to like him-to like _me_! Go out of your way to be overbearingly nice to me-make me run less laps in gym or give me extra fries at lunch, to get me to what? Trust you? _Crush_ on you? So you could do what, publicly embarrass me whenever Cheryl gives you the go ahead?”

They’re in an alcove of the hallway, simply lucky that no classes are being held in the rooms nearest to them for students surely would’ve heard all Jughead had to say. Hastily, Betty tried to wipe loose tears from her eyes.

“I…I would _never_ do that to you Jughead, I couldn't...” She wanted to say the words strongly, project them so he could _feel_ the truth behind them. But her voice was strained, clogged up with emotion and uttering only in raspy whispers. 

“Yeah,” He scoffed, not nearly through, “Just another one of your little lies, right?” When she gave him another confused look he ranted on, “Give it up. I know the truth about you, Betty Cooper, I know you didn’t transfer here from _Fort Roosevelt_ , I know you’re trying to keep your _sister_ locked away in the shadows like some-some sort of leper!” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Betty could see four figures  fastly approaching from the end of the hallway. Jason, Cheryl, Veronica and Ethel were closing in on them, each with concerned looks across their faces.

“And you know what else _I_ know?” His voice dropped low, “You’re hiding something. Because while you might be content to blame all of your problems on your social pariah sister, both her and your mother agreed that _you’re_ the reason your family moved here!” 

Betty blinked in denial, heart racing fast. It hit her hard, all that he had said, but particularly about her mother blaming her. He wasn’t lying, that’d be a difficult thing for him to make up, even if he was just trying to hurt her. 

“Betty!” Jason called out as Veronica shouted Jugheads name. 

Neither forces responded to those beckoning them.

“You think you know everything,” Her voice was louder and stronger, “But you’re wrong.” 

They made eye contact as she challenged him, “Cheryl tried to get me to makeout with Dilton Doiley while they filled his locker with dead bugs. But I refused to do that-because-because I couldn’t _do_ that to a person. I couldn’t ruin someone like that,” she shook her head vehemently. 

“I liked you because I thought you were different, Jughead,” Betty could hear her pulse racing, “But I guess I was wrong.” 

With that left hanging in the air, Betty bolted. Her shoulder met his roughly as she darted away, past the concerned looks of her friends and out of the school doors. She started running and she didn’t stop-not until she reached her house.

\-- 

With her back turned to the wall, Betty clutched a pillow to her chest tightly-unbelievably upset with herself for crying.

It felt all-too familiar, her running home with tears streaming down her face and heart beating against her chest painfully. She was thankful that at least Polly was downstairs in the living room and hadn’t spared her more than a glance since she darted up the stairs. In the back of her mind, she was concerned that Polly might tell her mother but if Polly hadn’t told Alice about Jughead being in her room the other night, she was willing to bet she wouldn’t start spilling secrets now.

She clutched the pillow tighter at the thought of him. She was unsure of what she’d done to provoke such cruelty from him-a side she hadn’t seen from him before. Betty was a rather observant person and, perhaps naively, she believed she was a good judge of character.

From the moment she entered Riverdale High, he was the first thing she saw. And there was some sort of inexplicable feeling behind the look they exchanged, something resonated deeply within her and she just _knew_ things would be okay for her. She was at a new school, where no one knew her or her sister or her _family_ at all, she was on the River Vixens without having to sacrifice her morals, she was able to get into all of the classes she needed to and…seeing a cute stranger helped too.

She recalled thinking he was selfless, for the way he shrugged off being shoved into the lockers by Reggie and Moose, only to comfort Ethel when she cried. He was a good friend to Veronica and Ethel and he seemed to be above it all-all the drama and the rumors didn’t have an impact on him. And after everything that happened at Our Children of Quiet Mercy, Betty realized that was the kind of person she wanted to be around. Something about him just seemed…genuine and so _different_ from everyone else.

 She thought she could put everyone in a box, except for Jughead. There was something mysterious about him that drew her to him. There was also something sad, a visible layer of hurt that she’d only seen once before. Betty knew it was really none of her business, but she wanted to eliminate that hurt if she could.

But instead, he just hurt _her_. It seemed like no matter how hard she tried to be a _good_ person and do the _right_ thing-she’d always come up short.

She was interrupted by a tap on her window. At first, she ignored it, the sound didn’t even register in her brain. But it came again, another tap followed by yet another. It became a persistent sound, causing her to shoot up straight out of her bed and glance to the window. Someone was throwing _rocks_ at her window.

Curiously, Betty stood up and walked over to her window kneeling on the ledge. She wiped any remaining tears from her eyes and looked down to see Jughead himself with a pile of pebbles in one hand and the other hand pitched back to throw.

 _That_ was something she certainly wasn’t expecting.

He looked back up at her with a tentative smile which she returned with a weary glance. She shoved her window open, leaning her upper body out across the sill. “Jughead? What are you doing here?”

It was a basic question, one she would have assumed he thought of an answer to already. But he looked a bit thrown off, as if he wasn’t sure what he was doing there himself. Almost as if his legs had carried him there of his own accord, before his mind could catch up with his heart. 

“I…I came to say I’m sorry,” he shouted up to her earnestly. The sound of his voice reminded her that she wasn’t alone in the house-that Polly was still just downstairs and probably able to listen to anything.

Hastily she motioned for him to climb up the ladder and, although he was shaky, he eventually made it up to just outside of her window.

“Do the Coopers just not believe in front doors?” He attempted to joke, but she provided him with an unimpressed glance as he climbed through the window.

Once inside, they stared at each other awkwardly. She raised her eyebrows at him expectantly when he spoke again, “I was an asshole.”

“You were,” She responded, a bit taken aback by his candor.

“No I,” he shook his head, “I exceeded the limits of being an asshole, I redefined the term asshole. And I’m sorry.”

She nodded, a small action that could’ve nearly gone unnoticed, “Did you…did you mean what you said? About us? About me and my ‘sudden interest’ in you?”

He looked at her in surprise, overcome by his inability to deny it. She scoffed and felt tears springing to her eyes once more, stepping back from him. “What did I _do_? To make you think that?”

She was blaming herself, at least partly. Chalking up his paranoia and fear to something she had done, a way she had acted to make him believe she was capable of hurting him like that. 

His eyes widened, “No, Betty…it’s, it’s nothing you did. None of this is on you. I’m the asshole, remember?” He stepped forward, “I’m not…I wasn’t-I didn’t expect someone to be _nice_ to me. Especially someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” She looked at him with confusion but didn’t recoil when he touched her arm comfortingly. 

“Someone so clearly out of my league,” He pointed out with a bitter laugh, “I was just…so used to people judging me, treating me like an outcast….leaving me, _hurting_ me…that when I met you I just assumed you’d be like everyone else. And I did to you what I was so afraid you’d do to me.”

She nodded, deep in thought, “I just don’t get it Jughead. What _happened_ to you? Why do people…judge you? What makes you so _afraid_ that I’d hurt you?”

He gulped nervously. If there was one thing he did know on his journey to her house, it’d be that he’d have to tell her the truth. Tell her what everyone else knew and if, in the end, she looked at him differently, then he deserved as much.

“That’s…kind of a long story. You might want to sit down,” he gestured to her bed and was a little surprised to find her pulling him to sit down next to her. He didn’t know quite where to start, and they sat silence for a few minutes. She was patient, waiting for him to talk, curious as to what he’d say but not trying to rush him.

Eventually, he said “Today is…the one-year anniversary of my moms death.”

With wide eyes, Betty looked at him. All of the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place. Why he lived with Veronica, what Reggie said to him before their fight, _why_ today, November 10 th, was such a touchy day for him. She realized why he always looked a bit sad, a bit out of it-he was still grieving over his mother. “Jug…” she started to say but he shook his head.

“It’s…it’s not what you think, Betty,” he looked down at his shoes, “She isn’t…she _wasn’t_ some average, loving, overly-involved parent. I think maybe she might’ve loved me and maybe she did love my dad at some point…but it wasn’t _enough_. I think she had my sister, Jellybean, to try to save their marriage but they were doomed. My dad was too involved with the Serpents and she cared too much about…whatever she was using to get herself high.” Betty wasn’t super familiar with the Southside Serpents, but

 Betty could feel her heart breaking, “Jug…I’m _so_ sorry.”

 “It’d be easier, that way, if I could just believe she never cared…that she was just some useless junkie,” he looked at her, eyes burning with intensity, “But one day…her and my dad just had a really bad fight. She used to work at Thornhill as glorified cleaning lady but she came home and she was so, I don’t know, happy? She told us she quit and that it was a good thing, but when she told my dad he just started…screaming at her and saying we needed the money. And then they talked outside for a long time and when they came back in…everything was different.”

Betty felt her face contort in confusion, “What do you mean?” 

“They told JB and I that things were going to be different now, better. I didn’t believe them, but they were so confident for weeks- and despite my mom not having a job, she was getting money from _somewhere._ And my parents weren’t fighting anymore, neither of them were drinking as much…I almost let myself believe things could get better.” 

“But then one night my mom told us she was just going out for a drive but _apparently_ she went out to the Whyte Wyrm, got obliterated and shot up whatever that new Jingle Jangle crap is-and then went to Thornhill to beg for her job back. When they sent her away…they _knew_ she couldn’t drive but they let her anyway,” His eyes narrowed, spitting out every word in sheer detest. Betty figured this might be why he hated Cheryl so much. “She lost control of the car, hit a white picket fence on the side of the road and her car flipped before combusting.”

 “I don’t know what’s worse, being told your mom’s dead right before you get sent off to school or overhearing Kevin Keller brag about how his dad put out a fire at the scene, and only after did he stomp it out did he realize it was my mothers _arm_.” Roughly and unforgivingly he wiped his tears from his eyes.

“Jug,” She reached out to touch him, gently putting her soft, warm hand on the side of his face.

He didn’t react at all, “I…after school, Jellybean my dad and I had to go to the coroners office. The Blossoms were there, of course. That’s when we found out how god damn intoxicated she was and we begged them not to tell anyone because it’d destroy what dignity she had left, they agreed of course,” he scoffed, “But the next day everyone in Riverdale knew my mom as some pathetic drunken addict who was stupid enough to drive.”

“If your mom dies, that’s one thing,” he relented, “but if she dies drunk _and_ high, no one gives a shit. Everyone thinks she _deserved_ it.”

Betty didn’t know what to say. She was stunned and horrified-she’d known Cheryl to be cruel but this was a step too far. Parto His whole “the world is against me” attitude seemed justified now.

“But…” she felt like she had a million burning questions to ask, none of them probably appropriate for the situation. She couldn’t help the two that slipped out, “Then where’s your dad? And your sister?”

“My _dad_ ,” the words felt like a curse, “Is currently in rehab. For having god knows how much heroine on him at his parent teacher conference.” Betty winced, instant regret coursing through her, “And…Jellybean. My grandparents knew my dad was a piece of shit. That he’d always try to change and he’d fail-they knew that Sunnyside trailer park was no place for a kid to grow up. So they took her with them to Toledo, a week after the funeral.”

“What? Without _you_? Jughead, that’s crazy,” Betty shook her head in disbelief.

“Figured I was already a lost cause,” he said in way of an explanation for his grandparents actions, “They don’t…they don’t even let me talk to JB. Guess they’re worried I’m a bad influence like my dad.” 

“Jughead,” she turned his head towards her and lifted her hand up to the other side of his cheek. Her green eyes were staring into his and if he tried to look away, she simply followed his gaze. “You are _nothing_ like him. You’re nothing like your father or-or your mother. And,” she took a deep breath, her voice never wavering, “Screw everyone who says differently or dares to say your mom _deserved_ that. She didn’t-and _even_ if she did…you didn’t deserve it, _any_ of it, of- of the pain she left you with.”

Jughead blinked in surprise-that was something he’d never heard before. He’d heard a thousand apologies,  far too many ‘I’m so sorry’s and he’d seen too many judgmental stares and condemning glances but this? This was new. And he didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, he didn’t have to say much because Betty pulled him into a tight hug.

It reminded him of that day in the nurses office, but it was somehow so different. The air between them had changed, his walls down at last. He leaned into it, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her back. It was the closest thing he had felt to being _whole_ in a long time. And it was a beautiful thing-he felt calm and warm in places he didn’t even know he’d been cold. He could smell her warm vanilla and the soothing touch of her skin on his, it was everything.

They pulled away from each other, just enough distance for Jughead to utter, “I’m still-I’m sorry Betty.”

She looked at him, trying her best to be stern but couldn’t help the small smile on her face, “You’re off the hook this time, Jones-just don’t let it happen again.” 

He looked at her with mock seriousness before holding up three fingers, “Scouts honor.” 

There was something lingering across his face, like there was something he needed to say but was unsure if he could. His eyes flickered to her door, where Pollys room was just visible and back to Betty.

She followed his glance before asking, “What’s wrong?” A pause before adding, “Aside from, ah, the obvious.”

He smirked before clearing his throat, “I…uh, I don’t know. It’s crazy.”

“I don’t think anythings crazy,” she pointed out, but he still looked discomforted by something. “What is it Juggy? Is it Polly? She’s downstairs-I doubt she heard any of it.”

“No, it's not that,” he sighed, “I just think… _maybe_ your mother is, er, trying to pin you and Polly against each other.

She seemed off put by the notion but ultimately had to admit that it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility for Alice.  “How so?”

“I think I might’ve mentioned it earlier but, um, the other day? When you hid me in the closet?” Betty nodded in response, remembering the situation with a glint of humor in her eyes, “I overheard her trying to comfort your sister…apparently Polly overheard you telling me that it was all her fault you guys moved here? And, uh she mentioned that to your mom and your mom was really quick to tell her it wasn’t her fault-that it was all yours and that she should try to stay away from you or something?”

He could see that he was upsetting Betty again with the implication, “but-but then when she came in here, she reassured you that it was all Polly’s fault-and that you should stay away from her? It’s, I don’t know, it just seems weird, like she’s trying to keep you guys apart-“ He was rambling, not sure if he was making even a shred of sense but Betty seemed to be contemplating what he was saying.

“Maybe it _is_ my fault,” Betty spoke softly-it was the first time she ever said it aloud. The thought had been brewing in the back of her mind ever since her parents announced they were moving. It was something she considered but quickly overwrote. She was always ready to deny it, always starving for confirmation that it _wasn’t_ her fault-but maybe, that’s only because it was.

“How?” he asked. 

There was a long pause, the time consumed by Betty looking at the ground entrenched in her own thoughts, before she looked up at him and quietly admitted, “I did something bad, Juggy. I _hurt_ someone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probs never gonna be happy with it but i've held this chapter prisoner for long enough
> 
> aswellingstorm.tumblr.com


	9. Bruises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of suicide & violence

Dark, foreboding…overall _gloomy_ is how Jughead would describe the weather. He was just leaving Betty’s house, having to shuffle out the window to evade Alice’s notice, when he noticed how the skies up above took a turn for the worse. There was no sun, no sign of light up in the sky as far as the eye could see. It was an overwhelming color of gray.

He huffed, throwing his hood up as he felt a few drops of rain fall onto his head. His gaze was fixed downwards, feet sloshing between the new puddles and gravel. He didn’t even notice Archie pull up in his fathers truck, the gingers eyes holding too much contempt for the other boy.

 Jughead was too caught up in his own mind. He felt like he was drowning in his thoughts, thoughts of _Betty_ and everything she’d told him.

* * *

 

“You _hurt_ someone?” He asked, bewildered. “How-what do you mean?”

“I…I don’t know where to start,” she confessed. “I don’t even _know_ where the beginning is anymore, Jug.”

He noticed the way her fists clenched, how there were tears forming in her eyes as she looked away from him. He nudged her gently, “Hey, you don’t…you don’t _have_ to tell me, I-I don’t want to hear it unless you’re sure you want to tell me.” 

His words surprised her and she looked to him with wide eyes. So many people (Polly, her parents, her former friends…) they all pressured her and begged her to tell them the truth. They implored her to share really happened that day-she never told anyone because she _wanted_ to. She told them because she had to, because it was her role as daughter, sister, friend…

But Jughead…Jughead was genuine. Sure, he seemed a little frightened, as one might be after hearing someone confess to harming someone, and rather curious but…he wasn’t interrogating her. He wasn’t demanding to hear the story, Betty’s tired narrative. His hand was warm on her shoulder, comfortingly rubbing small circles with his thumb. His eyes were calming, face relaxed and trusting. He’d just laid all of his cards in front of her, he showed all of his vulnerable parts to her and he wasn’t expecting anything in return. He was giving her an out, a way to stop the conversation but somehow, it just made her feel like she could trust him.

Betty sighed, getting up and closing her bedroom door before moving on the bed and crossing her legs to face him. Her eyes were determined and she unclenched her fists.

“Polly and I…we used to be close,” Betty’s voice was low, “She was my best friend.”

“What changed?” he wondered when she took a pause. 

A humorless laugh fell from her lips, “ _Everything_. When we hit high school-it was all about popularity to her. And you were right, I didn’t go to Fort Roosevelt…I went to Our Child of Quiet Mercy-it was this super strict catholic private school. But she wanted to be a cheerleader and she convinced me to the join the squad with her when I was a Sophomore. And that’s how she met _Chuck_.” The voice was a sneer, coming out of Betty’s mouth like poison.

“Chuck Clayton transferred in during my second year, Pollys third year, and joined the football team. They…hit it off, right away. He was a straight A student, a starting linebacker…his parents were both lawyers and my parents _loved_ him. And Polly? She was obsessed with him. Every moment, every thought, every breath of air she breathed it—it was all about him.” She shook her head in disapproval. 

Jughead was putting the pieces of the puzzle together: Betty and Polly were close, so close until one day they _weren’t_. Because this Chuck kid was in the picture now, and he drove some sort of wedge between them-was Betty just jealous of what her sister had? Did Betty hurt Chuck out of a jealous rage? It didn’t seem like her-

“She began keeping secrets, sneaking out, _lying_ to me. Polly became this…this _shell_ of herself she was just so wrapped up in him!” Reliving it made her worked up, he could see a fire in her eyes that was becoming familiar now. She took a deep breath, calming herself before she spoke again. “Eventually, my parents and her other friends could see it too. He was the _perfect_ guy on the surface. But underneath, he was this arrogant, self-absorbed, manipulative monster. Which is why we were all relieved when they broke up.”

“But Polly wasn’t too thrilled?” Jughead assumed. Something about Polly made Jughead a bit weary. He could still recall the pensive look she shot him from the window all of those weeks ago, the way her eyes trailed after Jason. 

Betty shook her head in confirmation. “That’s a _bit_ of an understatement. He didn’t just break her heart, Jughead, he broke _her_.”

He nodded slowly to himself, believing he had the entire situation thought through. So it was first-love gone wrong, but wrong _enough_ to make the whole family pack up and leave?

She wasn’t nearly through, “Jug, you don’t understand. You think _I’m_ uptight? That _I’m_ too much of a perfectionist? I was _nothing_ compared to her. She was…so perfect at everything. She got the best grades, was the best cheerleader, the best _daughter_. I didn’t compare to her!-Until, until…”

He wanted to tell her that he didn’t think she was uptight or too much of a perfectionist. Instead, he asked, “She fell from grace?”

“She-I, I don’t know what _he_ did to her,” tears were glossing over her eyes, “But it was like, she snapped. She was blowing off class, skipping practice, picking fights with my parents, picking fights with _me_. I thought she shut me out when she was dating him, but she really pushed me away after they broke up. I didn’t even recognize her.”

His mind flashed to Polly, more specifically her growing bump. Had that been why she shed her good girl persona so quickly? Did she push Betty away because she didn’t want her to find out? 

“I didn’t even recognize her…” Betty repeated but she was no longer looking at him. Her gaze was fixed  on something seemingly on her wall, eyes looking a eerily vacant. He followed her stare, hoping to find what she was looking at but only seeing an empty, pink wall. 

Without thinking, he reached a hand out to cup her cheek. She blinked a few times at the contact, but it was enough to bring her back into focus. “One day I came home…I came home, and I _knew_ she was home because she left school after lunch. She didn’t…she didn’t have any friends anymore and we didn’t have practice that day, so I _knew_ she had to be home. She had to be.” 

He nodded, urging her to continue. “I…I remember, I was _so_ mad that day. She was like a ghost. And I was tired of her…not caring anymore? Not being around? I don’t know…I was just _so_ mad when I saw her leave school early. I was so mad she kept pushing me away and then fighting with me whenever I tried to help her. I had to walk on eggshells around her and I was so tired of it. So when I got home, I looked for her.”

“She wasn’t…she wasn’t in the kitchen. Or her-her room, or the living room. I was worried maybe she left, ran away without saying goodbye…” She trailed off and he could see her eyes go out of focus once more. “The only place left to check was the bathroom.” Her voice broke on the last word and Jughead could almost see the darker path this conversation was headed down. 

“Betty,” he kept his voice calm, soft. “You don’t-we don’t have to talk about this anymore-” He brought his other hand up to squeeze her shoulder but she spoke over him.

“And there… _there_ she was, I didn’t….I didn’t recognize her, Jughead.There was-she tried to…she _hurt_ herself,” Her voice was hollow and with each passing second, she looked less and less present. 

He felt his blood run cold and a chill rattle his bones. She couldn’t fathom the words, couldn’t string them along to openly admit what Polly had done, but he could put the pieces together.

“There was…so much blood, so much-” Jughead tried to get her to stop, tried to bring her focus back to the present, but she was still stuck in the story, “I remember that the dispatcher tried to tell me how to _stop_ the bleeding—And, when the EMT’s arrived, when they ran up the stairs with their heavy boots, knocking off the pictures on the walls. I remember how she could barely open her eyes, how they had to pry her from my hands, I couldn’t even _hear_ them. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, I couldn’t stop screaming, begging for them to save her—” 

Finally, something in her snapped at the memory and she stood up abruptly. She shook her head as if the notion would stop her thoughts, the memories from flooding back in. “Anyway-uh, I-we found out she was pregnant at the hospital. That’s why Chuck dumped her and my parents…they were _furious._ It was the first time I felt like…we were ever on the same page. They swore they were going to make him pay.” 

He could see an anger rising in her chest, he watched as she clenched her fists. “Polly was under twenty-four hour watch. She had all of these-pysch evaluations…and my parents decided to pay _his_ parents a visit. They were ready to run the Claytons out of town.”

“But?”

 “But…they were both lawyers, _wealthy_ lawyers. And knowing my parents newspaper wasn’t doing so well anymore…the Coopers may be _many_ things, Jughead, but we’re apparently not above being bought out,” she laughed, but it was humorless. The bitter edges of the noise rang out sharply, echoing against the walls. “I was confused when they came home, calm and acting like nothing happened. They didn’t want me to visit Polly, they said she was _unstable_ and she needed to get help, _medication_ , and that Chuck _wasn’t_ to blame for her behavior.”

“ _I_ was still angry,” Betty stated, a fact more obvious than the sky being blue or the grass being green, “And my parents, they didn’t…they didn’t have to _see_ him. They didn’t have to go to school the next day, and see his _smug_ face or the way his friends laughed. Do you believe he had the audacity to come _up_ to me?”

Surprised, Jughead looked up at her. “Really? What’d he say?”

“’ _Hey Cooper, How’s Polly? They got a cure for crazy at that hospital she’s at now?_ ’ And they laughed-they all laughed.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“What’d you say?”

“It was all a _joke_ to him Jughead!” She spat out, eyes wild with a long-forgotten rage stewing behind them. “Polly, the baby, her _reputation_ , he didn’t give a shit about any of it. It was all some sick twisted _game_ to him!”

 _I hurt someone_. _I hurt someone. I hurt someone_. The words were ringing in Jughead’s ears as he asked her again, “Betty, what’d you do?” 

“She never _mattered_ to him,” There was an edge of manic in her voice, “She was just a number to him, in this gross book the football team kept-and, and she wasn’t even a ten! I saw the page-it was so messed up!” 

“Betty,” He raised his voice and she finally looked at him again, “What happened?”

She exhaled a deep, heavy breath, “I…I blacked out. I don’t remember what I did.” If anyone else had been telling Jughead this, he’d be the first to scoff and roll his eyes. _Blacking out_? How convenient. _I don’t remember!_ Yeah, very likely. But something about Betty, the way her voice dropped and her face grew red with a certain kind of shame, he didn’t doubt her for a second.

“There… _might_ have been a video,” She confessed, voice low and timid. “By third period, the whole school new I…kind of, um, beat him up. A little.” 

Jughead let out a sharp whistle, he didn’t find that very hard to believe at all. From the diner, to the fight in the hallway. Betty knew how to pack a much, that much was for sure. “Good. Sounds like he had it coming.”

It was meant to lighten the mood, maybe bring a smile to her face or at least let her know that he supported her. If Veronica ever beat someone up, she’d gladly have her actions validated by Jughead. But Betty looked to him with a frown, “No, _not_ good! Everyone thought I was _crazy_. I was kicked off the squad, I was suspended for a _week_ , the whole student body turned against me!”

“What?” He was baffled, “Why? How could they? After seeing what Chuck did to Polly?”

“Because they didn’t _care_ Jughead. She already pushed so many people away that when Chuck spun his own twisted version of everything that happened, they believed him. They all thought that she was the bad guy, that she was threatening him or something and when I lashed out at him, it only proved what he’d been saying all along: that we were crazy.”

“His parents were _furious_. I…I guess I broke his nose and he couldn’t play for a week when scouts were coming. They threatened to sue us for everything we had,” she shook her head, “They promised to ruin our name, everything. Unless…”

“Unless you skipped town?” He guessed. 

She winced, adding, “ _And_ agreed to leave Chuck out of…the whole _baby_ thing. Polly’s not allowed to contact him…at all.” 

“So what? He want’s nothing to do with the baby?” Jughead bristled, _what a fucking douchebag._

“She never forgave me,” her eyes with filled with hurt, a sadness that comes from losing someone who is both your best friend and your sister. “And I never forgave her. For…for trying to-to…for-trying to take the baby with her. For pushing me away-”

When tears began to fall from her eyes he hastily scrambled off of the bed and wrapped his arms around her. He wasn’t much of a hugger, only recently being on the receiving end of one, and had no idea if he was doing it… _right_. Or if there was even a wrong way to hug someone, he wasn’t sure if it was awkward or he was hugging her too tightly and risked choking her-but then he felt her relax in his arms. Her shoulders relaxed as she let herself cry into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.

He held her tighter, rubbing her back gently and resting his chin over her shoulder. “It…” he wanted to say _it’s okay_ but…that felt like a lie. He settled for “I’m sorry.”

And he was. He was deeply regretful that all of this had happened to _her_. Betty Cooper, the angel of Riverdale High. The nicest girl in the whole town, the best cheerleader on the team, the girl who exuded _perfection_ in every way-from her tightly curled ponytail down to her white shoes, didn’t deserve this. He resented the world, spited it even, for the shitty hand it dealt her. There was so much that was out of her control, it only took _one_ also to tear her family apart, take away her friends, her _sport_ …everything.

After some time, she pulled away. “So…you don’t, ah, hate me?” Her eyes were wide, fearing her assumption wrong. 

He looked at her with a smile that he prayed looked somewhat reassuring, bringing his hand up to wipe away a few of the stray tears on her face, “Jughead Jones, hating Betty _freaking_ Cooper? The odds of that are slim to none.” 

Betty smiled at him, brightly. Their eyes locking and he was suddenly brought back to the moment he first saw her. Weeks ago when she walked through the doors of Riverdale High and all time seemed to stop as they caught sight of each other-insantly enraptured. He swooped his head down to kiss her, her lips meeting his halfway. And it was… _perfect_. They both smiled and leaned into the kiss. It felt like stars aligning and waves crashing all at once until-until a noise at the window jarred them from the moment. 

For there was Jason Blossom, grinning sheepishly at them from the windowsill. His face was red, embarrassed and slightly out of breath from the climb up. Betty sighed, frustrated. 

“Ah, uh, um, sorry. Wrong bedroom window,” he admitted before awkwardly attempting to shuffle over to Polly’s window, looking something like a crab walking.

“You can just-just go in through the front. My parents aren’t home,” Betty suggested, grinning through her teeth with a forced niceness.

“Oh, okay, good, I’ll just-I’ll go do that, uh have fun,” Jason made quick work of going back down the ladder before popping his head up again, “But not _too_ much fun!”

“Goodbye Jason!” Betty said loudly, making her insinuation rather clear as he disappeared below the gutters of their roof once more.

Jughead scratched the back of his head, feeling the magic of the moment truly disappated. “You know, uh, I always thought it was Jason.”

“What was?” She looked at him with innocent confusion before Jughead widened his eyes as if it were obvious, “Oh, the baby? Oh, god no.” 

“Then how did… _that_ happen?” He tilted his head backwards, towards the sound of the front door opening and Polly’s elated cries.

“My parents are family friends with the Blossoms,” she sighed, “Well family _frenemies_ might be more appropriate. Jason and Archie helped us move our stuff in and unpack…Jason saw Polly, pregnant belly and all, on the stairwell as she was walking down and I guess you could say it was love at first sight.” 

“Really?” His voice was colored in disbelief. Jason Blossom, the simple-headed football captain who spent the better part of his sophomore year pushing Jughead into lockers-had fallen head over heels for someone who couldn’t be _more_ emotionally unavailable.

“Yeah. He asked her out on the spot and my parents kicked him out,” she laughed a little at the memory. He still thought Jason was ridiculous and unpredictable at best, but he was glad to see her smile again. “He came back later that night and snuck up through the ladder. They’ve been more or less attached at the hip ever since.” 

“Is that…is that why he quit football?” Jughead wondered.

“Love makes you do crazy things,” she explained with an emotionally spent huff, leaning her head onto his shoulder. He turned his head to look at down at her, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. 

* * *

The rain began to fall harder, causing Jughead to pick up his pace. His boots kicked away the gravel as he turned onto a familiar street. His eyes were steeled in determination and bitterly he thought of the saying, “ _The truth will set you free_.”

He knew Betty’s truth now. Better than his own. He knew he’d been wrong about her. She was never using him; she had outright refused Cheryl’s bogus hazing rituals. She wasn’t just some picture perfect stereotypical girl next door, she was far more than that.

 He was thankful that Riverdale High was still open. His wet hands slipped as he pushed the heavy doors open and all-but sprinted to the office of _The Blue and Gold_.

Betty Cooper had her mysteries. Her sister was pregnant, tried to kill herself, even. She had a record, she was kicked off of the cheer squad at _Our Child of Quiet Mercy_ , a violent past. There was a video, still lingering on the sites that Mr. and Mrs. Cooper couldn’t wipe it from, of her assaulting a peer in the middle of a hallway. All of these would make excellent headlines, Jughead scoffed cynically as his cold fingers logged onto one of the monitors. If Jughead had taken just a moment to slow down, he might’ve realized seen a tuft of fire-red hair lurking in the shadows of the hallway, paying close attention to his computer screen.

He pulled up the google doc shared between himself, Veronica and Ethel, named _Operation Strawberry_. In it was all of the notes he had meticulously taken thus far, pages of bullets that were mainly dead ends-nothing compared to the truth. The document had been left untouched in recent days, the blinking type bar begging him to spill the secrets he had just learned.

If there was one thing that Jughead was right about, it was that Betty was full of secrets. Dark, ugly truths that didn’t want to see the light of day. 

And he decided to keep it that way. 

In one swift movement, he highlighted all of the text on the page and the spacebar, overwriting all of it. Immediately after, he kicked Veronica and Ethel off of the doc, taking away their permissions to view or edit it. He went back to his google drive and deleted it entirely. All of his hard work gone within seconds. 

 _The truth will set you free_.

But for the first time in a long time, he felt like he finally did something _right_. With shaking fingers he pulled out his phone and made a call. 

“It’s over, I’m calling it,” his voice was rushed, urgent. 

“What is?” The voice on the other side of the line knew exactly what he was talking about, he could hear the smirk in their tone.

“ _Operation Strawberry_ ,” Jughead was thankful it’d be the last time he’d ever utter the ridiculous title, “It’s over. I’m done. Cancel whatever bullshit failsafes you have. I’m not doing this anymore-she doesn’t deserve it.”

He could feel Veronica beaming at him through the phone as her voice rang through the speaker, “Thank god. I’ve been waiting for you to say that for _ages_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off, i'm hella sorry for the wait for this chapter! the holidays really kicked my ass & this proved to be really challenging to write (i'm still not 100% happy with it lol) despite the fact i had been planning out this chapter before i even started writing the fic! anyway, i wanted to thank EVERYONE for reading + commenting, i love reading your comments & asks! i'm still mind blown that so many people are enjoying this despite how bad i am at updating!! we still have a long ways to go, but there might actually be fluff ahead????
> 
> also shoutout to my girl @ juggiexjuliet for encouraging me to post this, if you guys don't follow her yet then wyd????
> 
> as always you can find me on tumblr @ aswellingstorm.tumblr.com!


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